The Science of Destruction
by bastiiandiiez
Summary: We almost made it, I almost called you "mine" and you almost called me "yours". I think we almost loved each other but the only thing I was sure about is that almost wasn't good enough. [By Emma and Sebastian]
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

James Moriarty, the brightest and most dangerous mind in England, was just about to give up on finding "The Man". For years his feelings were pure disappointment, losing count of how many men and a few women have tried to please the Irishman's wishes and expectations. Was it really this difficult to find that person that could do everything he needed and wanted? He had four of his assistants trying to find someone, anyone; at this point everything was just good enough for a job interview. Many ended up badly, most of them didn't even manage to do a tryout, and the other bit didn't even last a month. All hope was lost, he needed someone and he was just too tired to keep trying, so decided that maybe that kind of person didn't exist at all.

One unexpected day, one of Moriarty's assistants was running out of ideas of where to find someone for the job that as a last resort he decided to look where nobody had looked before, military files. It took him almost two hours to find that one file. The assistant opened the file and what he saw was extraordinary. _Colonel Sebastian Moran; dishonorably discharged for military incompetence and shooting a fellow companion while on duty._ The assistant read throughout the file and found that this man had nerves of steel, amazing skills in body combat, weaponry knowledge, and war strategy thinking. A strong and, for what he read, an intimidating leader, one everyone respected and almost feared, the perfect man. The assistant couldn't even let go of the file in his hands as he kept reading; the Colonel was perfect and all those highlights in the file were not what the assistant thought, until he read the most extraordinary thing. The Colonel had a flawless reputation; he not only was an expert in body combat and weaponry knowledge but also, he was part of the elite sniper team where his reputation started. _Never missed a target._

The assistant didn't waste more time and decided to give the file to James first thing in the morning. The Irishman took it but didn't even bother to look at it at all for several hours. It was only after he was done working that he glanced at the file and finally opened it. The room fell into a deep silence and eventually Jim put down the file with a wide smile; sending his men to start looking for the Colonel immediately. The file's last record was almost three years ago which made the criminal wonder if he would indeed find this Colonel, hoping he didn't end up in jail, lost in drugs, alcohol or worse, dead.


	2. I'll be damned

**I'll be damned**

A loud groan could be heard, followed by a thud when the ex-Colonel slammed his fist on the table. He had lost for the third time in a row that evening at the poker tables in an illegal tavern down in Chinatown. The men around him laughed, mocking the man for losing again, which wasn't a good idea since Sebastian was already very drunk. Losing his temper was something that happened pretty easy and pretty fast when he had alcohol in his system. He was not going to tolerate them, and in a quick, sharp movement he flipped the table and started shouting angrily at them. As expected, two men walked over to him and practically dragged him out of the tavern. He was too drunk to even fight back, and stumbled on his way when the security men pushed him out, causing him to fall to the ground with a small groan. The ex-Colonel cursed under his breath and slowly stood up, taking a few seconds to steady himself before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, walking out of the alley and heading back home. People moved away when the man passed them. His appearance and his smell, along with his occasional stumbling were not good signs to the people walking by, so they did their best to simply ignore him and stay as far away from him as possible.

The ex-Colonel soon walked into an ugly neighborhood; it was the only place he could afford to live since the government took his money instead of sending him to jail for his dishonorable discharge three years before. He reached to open the door. When he saw another eviction warning placed on it, he sighed heavily and grabbed it, tearing it apart as he walked into the flat, then tossing the pieces of paper aside. The man closed the door behind him and walked into what seemed to be a trashed flat that smelled bad compared to the street; empty bottles, cigarette butts, trash, bad food, used condoms, among other things, were all over the floor. He owed the landlord more than five months' rent; the old man hadn't kicked him out yet because Sebastian kept telling him whenever he was sober that he would get a job soon, and that it was hard since nobody gave him one because he was discharged from the army, not to mention the way he looked. The ex-Colonel was not an easy man to lock eyes with, he had scars all over his face and body and a temper problem, and that was aside from the fact that he usually showed up drunk to the job interviews. Yes, his life was full of chaos and misery at the moment, and he knew he had hit rock bottom. He flopped down on the old mattress where he slept, lying down and sighing deeply. He lit up another cigarette, feeling sick and tired of his life.

The consulting criminal had been searching for someone like Sebastian Moran for quite some time now. He had passed up several opportunities to employ men similar to this ex-army sniper, but none of their files read like Sebastian's did. Finally, after several days, his men had located the man, which brightened his mood; he wanted to have some fun. Of course, the ex-Colonel's apartment had already been examined, and James was in possession of photos of the living space, all of which disgusted him. It was a sloppy, unorganized, trashed, pig's pen of an apartment, and he would be attempting to move the man out of there as soon as possible. There had been cameras planted in the ex-Colonel's place of residence so that Jim could watch his every move. Fortunately for the criminal, the disheveled and grotesque living space was a prominent sign that the man did not have a job, and the eviction notices merely proved it. That meant that he stood a much higher chance of employing Sebastian, _if_ Jim decided that it would be worth the effort to clean him up and get him back on his feet again.

Sitting at his desk, clad in one of his favorite Westwood suits, James typed Sebastian's apartment phone number into the digital keypad of his phone, the cool glass pressed against his ear as he let the line ring, waiting for an answer. Sebastian was sleeping on his dirty mattress, holding a half empty whiskey bottle in his hand when he heard the phone. The ex-Colonel frowned as the sound echoed all over the flat, looking up and groaning as he sat up, glaring at the phone with a sleepy and tired expression. He blinked slowly, a bit surprised that the phone hadn't been cut out yet, wondering who the fuck might be calling him. He allowed the phone to ring, taking a huge gulp from the bottle in his hand before standing up and walking to the kitchen to see if he could find something to eat. As expected, he didn't find anything, which only made his stomach growl to express the hunger he was now beginning to feel. Sebastian scowled at the feeling, sliding his hands inside his pockets to take out all the money he had left; it was nothing, not even enough for another bottle of cheap whiskey. He sighed and took another large drink, leaning against the kitchen counter and staring at the bottle for a few seconds, before narrowing his eyes when he realized he was going to have to do some dirty jobs in order to get money so that he could eat. _Sex always sells._ He thought to himself and took another gulp from the bottle, frowning slightly since he hated to turn to prostitution to get money, but he had to do it. Though what he had started to hate the most was the ringing noise still echoing around the place.

As the phone kept ringing, Jim's temper grew shorter. He remained collected though, allowing the ringing sound to drone on until the answering machine picked up.

—Sebastian~.— Jim's tone was playful, almost sweet as it played through the messaging machine. He didn't bother to address the last name of the ex-Colonel, he wasn't in the mood to trick Sebastian into thinking that Jim didn't know every bit of information about the man he could get his hands on in the past few days. Sebastian froze on the spot when he heard someone calling his name like that, shaking his head in disbelief, a frown still on his lips; he thought someone was probably just trolling him.

—Stop looking through your money like you believe you have anything left. It's pathetic.— The Irishman continued, —You spent all of it gambling, you imbecile.— There was a short pause, and Sebastian opened his eyes widely when he heard that, still frozen in his place though his grip on the whiskey bottle tightened a little bit.

—Anyway, if you want a job, call this number. Bye-bye!— Jim finally said, before hanging up. Admittedly, Jim had expected Sebastian to at least pick up the phone, but he was observing him carefully through the hidden cameras. The criminal felt confident that he had at least intrigued the Colonel enough, or annoyed him enough; to get him to call back, but only time would tell.

Sebastian frowned deeply, standing there for several long seconds, before he quickly walked to the phone and looked down at it, almost glaring at it. He paused there for a moment before he began pressing a few buttons to check the number. He didn't know it, and he definitely didn't recognize the voice on the answering machine. After another moment he replayed the message and his frown deepened, the Irish accent echoing in the room.

—Who... the fuck? — Sebastian muttered to himself.

The secret cameras provided Jim with an excellent view of Sebastian, and he was able to watch the confusion in the other man's face with rather alarming clarity, a small smirk crossing his lips.

—Come on, call back...— Jim began to mutter to himself, —Call back. You know you want to. You know you're interested. — The criminal turned his phone in his hand, his thumb on the screen and his forefinger on the metal backing, twirling the item using his other fingers. His eyes stayed fixed on the computer monitor before him, eyeing the sniper with anticipation pumping through him. He couldn't afford to have messed this up. This man fit the job description he had laid out so well that it was difficult for James not to say that he was meant for it. The suit-wearing man placed his phone on the table and adjusted his cufflinks.

Sebastian replayed the message again before he finally picked up the phone and started dialing the number from the answering machine, placing the phone against his ear as he waited for the Irish-accented man to answer. Excitement coursed through Jim as he heard his cell phone ringing and saw Sebastian lifting the phone to his ear through the monitor. Sebastian waited a second, but when he heard the first beeps from the line he frowned and swiftly hung up. Just as Jim's fingertips had brushed the sides of the mobile, and he was about to pick up, the chiming stopped.

—Fuck.— Cursing under his breath, Jim's glare returned to the computer screen and his hands clenched into fists in frustration. Sebastian gulped and looked down at the phone as he shook his head in disbelief. He decided not to do it in a matter of a second, he was that changeable. He then walked back to the kitchen counter to retrieve the bottle.

—I'll be damned.— Sebastian muttered and took another gulp as he strolled to the front door and walked out.

 _Fine._ The criminal thought. They'd have to do this the hard way. Standing from his solid mahogany desk and stepping outside of his office, he shouted the names of two of his guards who were positioned inside the house, ordering one of them to keep an eye on the monitor and the other to get in the car and drive him into town.

James was soon climbing into the back of the car, glaring at the chauffeur. —Drive!— He huffed, pulling out his phone. The consulting criminal didn't mind a bit of a thrill, and he was absolutely sick of waiting to employ this man. After weeks of attempting to recruit people, Sebastian was a godsend, and Jim was slightly worried he'd lose track of him if he let him get away now.

He put his phone up to his ear, shouting commands. —I need everyone looking for Moran, every, single, person! He's going to be looking for money; he doesn't have enough to pay to do anything else. I need two people following his movements from his flat. Go! Now!— His mobile device was soon tossed aside on the seat as he awaited updates from his men.

Sebastian ventured down the pavement where homeless people and bums wandered around the streets and alleys. He headed directly to the tube, managing to get in without paying when one of the policemen was preoccupied with giving instructions to a woman. Walking into one of the trains and noticing a few people glaring at him, he scowled, trying to ignore everyone. He knew that he looked like a homeless person because of his dirty and used clothes, plus his long hair and beard that were obviously in need of a thorough shower.

Sebastian got off the train in a neighborhood of offices and businesses, one he knew well from his past visits. The place would soon be full of people heading home from work, namely single, lonely men who were discreetly looking for a hook up. Sebastian knew how to recognize them, and it was easy to make eye contact with them; once they had locked eyes for more than a few seconds, Sebastian knew that they needed a favor. The ex-Colonel leaned against a wall close to the tube, lighting up a cigarette and looking around. It took him a while, but eventually he got one. A man he was certain he had seen before due to a past favor walked over to him, Sebastian taking a last drag from his cigarette before he got to work. The two of them talked for a few minutes before Sebastian looked around to make sure no policemen were nearby, and then walked with his companion to a public restroom.

Soon enough, Jim received a phone call saying that a team of two of his men had located Moran. They had seen him outside talking to the man, and one of them continued to follow the pair while the other spoke to their boss over the phone. James demanded that they keep following Sebastian, and that they try to interrupt him before anything else had the opportunity to happen. The two men were instructed to kill whoever the ex-army man was with, and then keep Sebastian in check until Jim had the chance to catch up with them, so that he could talk to Sebastian in person.

After hanging up the phone with his boss, the one henchman informed the other of their status update. Following Sebastian and the man into the lonely restroom, one of Jim's men drew his pistol, not wasting time as he aimed and shot whoever Sebastian was walking with through the back of the head.

Sebastian didn't even have time to react when he heard the sharp noise of the gun silencer behind him, followed by the man falling down dead. The sniper frowned deeply, and he noticed that his instincts were starting to lead his actions when he didn't pause to ask the stranger why he shot the man dead, instead finding himself running as fast as he could out of the public restroom, almost stumbling and falling on his way out. He had no idea what was going on, but he was not going to let anyone catch him alive. The adrenaline in his system was waking up the feeling of being in a battlefield, running for his life, his heart beating hard in his chest.

The two men immediately began chasing down Sebastian, knowing that their boss would kill them if they let the man get away. One of them texted a nearby group of Moriarty's workers in order to alert them to the running man so that they could corner him in an alleyway. Six men came sprinting toward Sebastian, the four that were close-by having obeyed instructions immediately.

Jim remained seated in the car until he received a text from one of the men following Sebastian, giving him an approximate address of where they'd be able to stop the sniper. James told the driver where to go, and then leaned back in his seat, excitement growing within him.

Sebastian glanced behind himself, panicking when he now saw six men running after him. —Oh shit shit shit shit!— He yelled, trying his best to run faster, his eyes beginning to rapidly analyze the streets and locate his possible ways out. This whole situation became a battlefield for the ex-Colonel. Quickly he was making a turn onto another street, taking a shortcut, but eventually Jim's men were leading him right where they wanted him, the sniper unable to predict a new path to take or to escape. He was starting to grow very tired, running out of breath and groaning, but he kept running. Now regretting the time he sold his precious gun in order to get a fix; he could really use a gun right now. Eventually, he ran into a closed alleyway, facing a dead end and cursing under his breath. His eyes hastily looked for another way out, and all he could find was the back stairs from a building which he tried to reach by jumping, but he was unable to reach it. He knew he was fucked, and ran right to the back of the alley where he found a rusty metal tube beside a trash can, taking it quickly into his hands before facing those men with a death glare.

—Let's dance.— He said, ready to attack.


	3. Mr Irishman

**3\. Mr. Irishman**

When Jim's men found they had sufficiently trapped Sebastian against the wall of the alleyway, they backed off a bit. They weren't allowed to inflict any damage upon the man, so they stayed a safe distance away, still ready to fight him back into entrapment at the end of the alley if need be. Sebastian felt like a caged tiger, baring his teeth and growling at his trappers; holding the tube close and ready to swing. Not a moment later, a car pulled up to the curb and came to a stop at the entrance to the alley. The figure that emerged from the car was cloaked in darkness, but his impeccable suit and hair were still able to be made out.

—This is why you don't ignore people's calls, Bastian.— James called down the alley, standing in the center of the entryway. Even though he didn't know the man, he had already started picking out nicknames to call him, for future reference.

When Sebastian saw the man at the entrance of the alley he frowned slightly, but his expression changed completely not only because of the man's words, but his accent and his tone were so familiar; he recalled listening to the message on the answering machine and finally, he recognized it. The sniper didn't lower the tube as he stared at him with narrowed eyes, trying to see him better.

—You... y'called... It's you!— Sebastian said, still agitated, and now confused. —Wha' do y'want?— His accent echoed in the alley, one that was quite unique.

A dramatic sigh left the consulting criminal's lips as he advanced toward Sebastian, staying well protected within the group of his henchmen that were gathered there.

—Didn't you listen to the message? I offered you a job. Your skills are exactly what I need to fill a recently-opened position in my network.— He paused, looking the man up and down once before continuing. —It pays well; you won't have to gamble or go around having sex for money.— Sebastian narrowed his and his frown deepened when Jim mentioned what he did to get money. He was glancing at all of them, trying to find a way out of there.

Even without a verbal reply, the Irishman couldn't help asking something that was nagging at the back of his mind: —Why did you hang up when you called back?— Jim's question made Sebastian focus completely on him once again.

—I... I don't know... I didn't get a good feelin'... and I always follow my instincts.— Seb sighed deeply and relaxed a bit, yet still held the tube close. —Wha' kind of job?—

James scoffed, rolling his eyes at Sebastian's words. —Instinct. How boring. I told you the job pays well. Are you really going to decline the offer in your position? Your apartment is rancid and the amount of eviction notices you've received is appalling. Honestly, how do you live like that?— Sebastian was saddened by his words since he couldn't even answer himself that question.

Jim then realized he was beginning to trail off from his original point. —If you must know, it's kind of a... bodyguard position, with a bit of fun.— The playful tone from the answering machine returned in his voice. —I've heard being a sniper is good for taking out your anger, and you seem like someone who needs to expel some anger.— He said before taking another step closer, his hands in his pockets, his smirk becoming visible to Sebastian, who frowned and tightened his grip on the metal in his hands when the criminal took that step closer. —I'm not lying when I say you're perfect for the job, _Tiger._ —

Sebastian's face changed entirely when Jim called him _Tiger_. Wondering if James called him that just as a pet name or if he knew the story about the _tiger_ ; either way he was getting frustrated and pissed off with the situation. Unfortunately, Jim had only used the noun as a sort of nickname, as he found it fitting to describe the situation. Sebastian looked similar to a trapped tiger at that moment, and so the criminal pointed out the comparison. The sniper pointed the tube at Jim.

—Who the fuck are ya?— Seb said with clear annoyance in his voice.

—I'm Jim Moriarty. Consulting Criminal.— James replied with a pleased smile.

—Wha' makes ya think I'll go with ya? M'nobody's freakin' bodyguard.— Sebastian continued, narrowing his eyes at Jim.

—Very cliché, but now that I've told you my name, if you have no interest in working for me I'm going to have to kill you. Considering your current economical situation and the fact that you'll be receiving good money and an excellent place to live if you choose to work for me, you'd be an idiot to turn down my offer.— He stated simply with a shrug of his shoulders.

—I will not become one of yer freakin' sniffin' dogs like 'em.— Sebastian said, nodding toward the men surrounding the criminal. —I stopped followin' orders a long time ago.—

—Don't worry; you won't be one of them.— The Irishman gestured to the guards around him. —You'll be much higher up in the business chain.—

Sebastian watched Jim closely and slowly lowered the tube, yet still held it close. Looking down, he thinks for a moment about everything the criminal just told him. Then, Sebastian smiled sadly. —If y'are goin' to kill me, then m'gonna have to thank you fer tha'.— Seb spoke in a calmer tone. —Y'see... is not tha' easy to pull the trigger once y'ave the gun in yer mouth.— Sebastian said, confessing in a subtle way how he had tried to kill himself. —I don't even have me gun anymore which is a shame, but...— He stopped for a moment to shrug. —M'glad, who knows... being drunk makes ya stupidly brave.— He said without shame.

The sniper's life was chaos; he was a miserable and broken man, and even when the offer sounded interesting to him, there was a small voice in the back of his head telling him that this was not good, that this would mean his end. Then again, another part of his mind was telling Sebastian he was finished anyway, so he had nothing else to lose.

—Unfortunately for you and your suicidal tendencies, I would strongly prefer not to kill you. You see, I've spent a long time looking for someone like you, and I'm not about to waste my time again when I've found the perfect person for the job.— Jim said, and then narrowed his eyes. —What's holding you back from taking my offer?— He asked, genuinely curious. After all, this man could not hold a job, was constantly drunk, and had no chance of getting out of his current situation anytime soon. Sebastian frowned slightly at his question; it didn't seem to have an answer at the moment. Though, as changeable as Jim was, he spoke up again after the briefest pause. —I suppose if you really say no, I'll be deciding between killing you, or kidnapping you, so. I feel like you should take the job.—

At those words, Sebastian's frown deepened and he almost glared at him, watching him with an unamused expression. —Look Mr.— Seb thought for a quick second since he had forgotten the man's name. —Irishman.— He finally said, not bothering to spend more time attempting to remember the name.

—Moriarty.— James informed him with a small frown. Sebastian gave him an I-don't-care look before he continued talking.

—Kill me or not, kidnap me or not... Wha' on earth makes ya think I am the _perfect_ man fer the job y'are offerin' me so much.— Seb said in a nearly sarcastic tone. —Does it involve drinking and being dirty?—

James then took several slow steps forward. Two of his guards walked alongside him, holding guns at the ready just in case Sebastian tried anything. —Apart from the fact that you're not currently employed, there's several things. I've seen your military records. Dishonorably discharged, _but_ you were a well-respected leader, you were excellent with war strategies, you can handle yourself in hand-to-hand combat, and you have a large knowledge of weaponry. Extremely intelligent, nerves of steel, blah blah blah.— Jim explained calmly, still holding a professional air in the way he spoke. —The best thing, though, is the fact that you've never missed a shot. Not once.— The inflections of, and the excitement growing in his voice, showed that he was truly passionate about the subject of Sebastian's skills.

As Jim told him all of those facts, there was a hint of shock, fascination, and fear on Sebastian's face. _Who the hell is this man?_ Sebastian thought to himself, wondering why and how he knew everything about him. The sniper held his ground and cleared his throat before speaking. —Wow... Seems like y'really did yer homework Mr. Irishman.—

James chuckled softly to himself at Sebastian's comment. Of course he had done his homework, employing Sebastian was very important to him, and he definitely wasn't going to risk messing it up by not knowing enough about him. Plus, the man had intrigued him from the start, so reading up on him was a pleasure.

Then, Sebastian sighed deeply and looked at one of the men beside Jim, narrowing his eyes and pointing the tube at him before he stepped closer to him, close enough so that he could talk to him. —A'right toy soldier, tell me… This man is not jokin' around is he?—

The man frowned slightly and shook his head calmly, keeping a straight posture, wondering why Seb had picked him.

—And he's not just a rich homosexual lookin' fer random people to lock in his dungeon is he?— The man cleared his throat and shook his head once again, not believing this man. Jim observed the interaction between Sebastian and his guard with intrigue.

Sebastian hummed in thought and watched him closely, glancing at Jim for a moment before his eyes are focused once again on the man in front of him. —So… Wha' do ya think I should do?— The man sighed slowly and shrugged. It wasn't his place to answer any of his questions, yet he was afraid that if he did Jim would punish him for it. Sebastian looked at the man with disbelief and sighed, disappointed. —Thanks mate, y'are so _damn_ helpful!—

Jim then spoke up, inquiring almost defensively: —Who even said I was gay?—

Sebastian looked at Jim and smirked. — Hmm! Right.—

—Not that anyone said I'm not.— He remarked in a quieter tone, shrugging when Sebastian looked at him again. —So?— The criminal asked, still waiting for an answer to his proposal.

Sebastian sighed slowly and lifted the tube, pointing it at Jim. —M'not sayin' yes... Not yet.— The sniper said with a small smile.

James tilted his head slightly at the man. —Hm. Suppose that's better than nothing.— He shrugged.

Sebastian then threw away the metal tube and nodded towards Jim's car. —Let's go then.—

Jim's eyes darted to the metal tube as it was tossed aside, before he turned on his heel and began walking toward the car, expecting Sebastian to follow, which he did.


	4. You Clean Up Nice

**You Clean Up Nice**

—Need anything from your apartment?— The Irishman called over his shoulder, his pace slow and confident. The same two men followed him, flanking his shoulders. They were followed by another two guards, and the last four remained behind, waiting for Sebastian to go ahead of them so he wouldn't have any chance of escape.

Sebastian glared at Jim's men, not liking being surrounded like this, looking over at Jim. —No, I have nothin' left back there and y'don't wanna park yer fancy car on those streets, is not yer area—. He said calmly, sliding his hands inside his pockets.

—That's probably true—. The consulting criminal hummed to himself as one of the guards nearest him opened the backseat car door. Jim got into the car and slid across the seat to be against the other door. The door continued to be held open for Sebastian to get inside as well, a driver waiting in the front seat and one of the guards getting into the passenger seat. Sebastian got in and crossed his arms over his chest, watching the criminal closely, still very wary about all this. The door was shut after Sebastian got in, and as the car drove away, the guards left behind scattered, resuming their positions around the city. There was a certain tangible eagerness and excitement in the air around Jim, as he was clearly happy to have gotten Sebastian to even agree thus far.

—Y'seem to have a lot of people under yer command—. Sebastian said as he noticed all the men at Jim's service.

—You're correct about that—. Jim assured him.

Sebastian hummed softly before speaking again. —Also, was it necessary to kill the man I was with? He was goin' to pay well y'know?—

James rolled his eyes. —Quickest way to get you alone and get your attention. Besides, did I not tell you that I'd be paying you very well? You're not going to have to worry about money anymore. That is, if you fully agree to taking the job—. He shrugged, eyeing Sebastian slowly up and down now that they were closer than they were in the alleyway. —I think the first order of business is a shower and clean clothes for you.—

Sebastian looked down at himself. He always had problems with money but this time he was worse than ever. His long hair and long beard weren't helping his image, and Jim's words only confirmed it, making him look out the window and frown. —Yeh... tha' sounds great actually.—

—Hm.— Jim nodded, glancing out the window on his own side of the car, watching the city lights pass by for a few minutes before he turned his gaze back to Sebastian. —So what exactly are you agreeing to right now? To test out the job? Or simply to make sure I'm not, as you put it, a rich homosexual looking for random people.— The criminal slightly lifted one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows, observing Sebastian curiously.

The ex-colonel chuckled softly and looked at him. —To be honest... I don't know, I guess m'curious to see how this works out... I want to believe this s'not some joke and tha' I will get several benefits out if this.— He said with a shrug and a sigh.

—Of course it isn't a joke.— Jim insisted, shaking his head in disbelief that Sebastian would still believe this was a joke after everything. —After all the research I've done on you, this would be a stupidly elaborate joke.— He explained. —You will get benefits from this job, lots of benefits. Clothes, money, a place to live...—

Sebastian hummed and smirked slightly at those words, silent for a moment before he looked at him again. —Also... you... intrigue me.— The sniper admitted, watching him attentively.

The Irishman smirked a little at the other man's words. —Oh? I intrigue you? How so? —

Seb shrugged. —I don't even know how to explain it... Y'seem to be... one scary but interestin' man.— He said with a serious expression. —I can tell y'are dangerous... Very dangerous and yet... here I am.—

—Attraction could easily explain that.— Jim made a small joke, his smirk still tugging at his lips. —I can't see any other reason you'd willingly come with a man who chased you with six armed guards and threatened to kill or kidnap you if you had no intention of accepting his job offer.— He told him with a light and quiet chuckle.

Sebastian thought about it. —Tha' oooor... M'jus' too thrilled to see wha' happens with all this... A good amount of money can buy anyone and yet the money is not wha' excites me the most... Is the thrill of the kill y'know?— He smirked and looked him up and down for a moment. —Besides... Y'are not my type.—

—Not your type?— James scoffed in a playful manner at that comment. —You'd be lucky if I even looked at you twice.— His tone was joking as he made a point of looking Sebastian over excruciatingly slowly.

Sebastian didn't find his words funny, and looked out the window with a heavy sigh. Of course, looking like this, he was nobody's type.

—Oh, don't be like that.— Jim rolled his eyes as he watched Sebastian stare out the window. —Honestly, you're not bad. I can't imagine once you're cleaned up a bit.— He said remedially, and Sebastian rolled his eyes in response.

After a moment of silence, Jim spoke again. —Hm, shall I have a job lined up for you tomorrow night, then? I'll make it a fun one~.— A mischievous grin flashed over his lips. —Besides, you're not getting paid until you do a bit of work.—

—I need to know how much money is involved... Wha' do I have to do _exactly_ and how much do I get paid fer doin' each thing.— Sebastian replied in a serious tone.

James paused to think about the questions. —depends on how good of a job you do. For the first job, you'll likely just need to shoot someone in their home. We'll have their schedule, you just need to find the best time to kill them without leaving a trace, and do it.—

The sniper frowned deeply at that. —How do I know this is not a trap? As far as I know y'could be a serial killer who picks up random poor people tellin' 'em y'are gonna pay 'em an incredible amount of money so they can do yer dirty job... I've seen and talked with all kinds of people, not doubting wouldn't be wise y'know?—

James tilted his head back and groaned in frustration. —Would I really go through all the trouble that I have for this to just be a trap? If I _wanted_ to kidnap you or kill you, I could have done it so much easier.— He realized that he was probably not making his story any more believable. —How would you like me to prove it to you?— His eyebrow rose.

Sebastian smirked when he saw he was frustrating the Irishman, smiling to himself, turning to face him after thinking for a moment. —This is how is gonna play out fer us... You pay me first, when I make sure I have the right amount of money then I do the job, that's how I work... If y'don't like it I can get out now.— He shrugged and smiled almost smugly at him.

Jim shot a fiery glare at him, knowing that Sebastian was aware of the fact that the consulting criminal didn't have much choice but to agree if he had any chance of hiring him. —Fine. How much are you expecting to get paid for one rather easy kill?— He inquired, the car stopping as it approached a house. There are guards on either side of the front gates leading up to the house, another circling the building with a flashlight. The guard in the passenger seat got out of the car first, and then the chauffeur, opening the door first for Jim and then for Sebastian.

The sniper stepped out of the car and looked over at the house, whistling at it and nodding in approval. —I'll be goddamned... Y'really are rich.— He looked over at Jim and smirked. —Y'really live 'ere?—

A smirk crossed Jim's lips at Sebastian's comments. —Yes, I do. When you have the job I do, which no one does but me, you make a lot of money. People are willing to pay a lot to have others killed or to frame others for their felonies.— He spoke nonchalantly as he began walking toward the front door, gesturing for Sebastian to follow him. The sniper did, and watched the Irishman with curiosity, slowly starting to believe that this was not a joke, that this man was actually very powerful, and was offering him a real job. Still, his instincts kept telling him to be 110% sure of this before agreeing. The guard from the car followed after them, to ensure that Sebastian didn't attempt to escape, despite all the guards traversing the perimeter.

The two men walked inside, Sebastian looking around the entry room, admiring his surroundings. —Y'live 'ere all alone?— He asked calmly.

James nodded as he led Sebastian through the main room, pointing toward a room to the left. —Through there is the kitchen.— Sebastian smiled at that, knowing it must be filled with awesome food. He was then led up a nearby flight of stairs. —I have live-in guards and the ones who are positioned outside, but otherwise yes.— Jim answered the inquiry verbally as he brought Sebastian down a hallway, the sniper looking around with curious eyes. —Here's your bedroom and your bathroom.— Sebastian stopped abruptly at that, though that didn't make Jim stop talking. —And my bedroom is at the end of the hall on the right. If you take a left at the bottom of the stairs, you'll be able to find my office.—

Sebastian shook his head once he managed to speak. —Woah woah... Wait a minute... My bedroom?— He asked, frowning, confused. —Wha'... Am I movin' in 'ere or somethin'? Y'didn't tell me I was gonna live 'ere.—

With a theatrical roll of his eyes, Jim swiveled around to face Sebastian. —You didn't really think I was going to let you stay in your trashy, run-down apartment in the most crime-filled part of town, did you? Besides, what do you think the occupation of bodyguard entails? Obviously you won't be one of the guards who stands around aimlessly for hours on end, but you will be nearby in case something happens.— He explained, and Sebastian bit his lower lip. The criminal's words had logic and that made Seb look down and shake his head, realizing he was pushing his luck a little bit with this job. —Do you have a problem with living here?— Jim asked, his tone irritated, but still calm.

—No... Is jus' tha'...— Sebastian said quickly, but calmed himself before speaking again. —It's jus' tha' I haven't lived with anyone fer a _long_ time.— Seb bit his lower lip. —And... This place seems to be... _too_ nice fer someone like me.—

James relaxed slightly, letting out a slow breath. —There's nothing wrong with you, it's not like you're some mangy animal who's going to get everything dirty. It's not _too_ nice.— He gestured to the bedroom door. —Besides, everything in there is already tailored to fit you, there's a laptop waiting, and an array of handguns in there. Why wouldn't you want to stay here?... How long is it going to take for you to realize this isn't a trick?— James huffed.

Seb narrowed his eyes at him. —Y'don't seem to be the kind of man who has suffered enough to find a decent bedroom and a bathroom like _heaven_... We're so different you and me.— He frowned and bit his lower lip to prevent himself from talking about his misfortunes, sighing deeply and glancing at the bedroom door. —This must be so easy fer ya.— The sniper continued. —Y'think it's so easy to simply take someone and change their lives... I've seen too many things and lived too many others... To have this opportunity, this fast and this simple, is not easy to believe y'know?— Sebastian placed his hand on his own waist. —If y'are so desperate to hire me, it means m'not the first one to stay in this room...—

—Yes, others have of course stayed in this room in the past, but none of them were like you. Traditionally, I'd do an interview, but I've done my research on you, and I know you're the man for the job. Plus, I'm sick of interviewing people. They've all been idiots, unlike you. Well, that's debatable, but you're far less idiotic than the last man I had in your position.— The Irishman sighed quietly. —I'm giving you an amazing opportunity, one that is going to help you tremendously. I realize this is fast, and a lot to take in, but I'm typically not a patient man, and I'm sick of waiting. I'm allowing you to live here even though you haven't accepted the job because I'm hoping you will.— The criminal elaborated calmly. —I swear, this isn't a trick and you will be getting everything promised.—

Sebastian remained silent for long seconds after listening carefully to what Jim said, but then he smiled slightly. —I understand... We'll see if this works out fer the both of us.— Seb viewed the bedroom door again. —Can I go in already or are you gonna keep talkin' shit about me being an idiot which I'm _not._ —

—Everyone's an idiot to me, don't take it as an insult. You should find it kind of me to even call you _less_ idiotic.— The consulting criminal told him before once again addressing the door. —Go ahead and go inside. Look around.— Seb nodded and walked to the door to open it, looking inside and grinning at how pretty and big the room was.

—Shall I leave you alone for a while so you can get showered and cleaned up a bit?— Jim questioned.

Sebastian turned to him and raised an unamused eyebrow. —Yeh, unless ya wanna see me take a shower and get dressed.— He said with a small smile. —Is tha' wha' y'want?—

—Not saying I'd mind.— Jim let out a soft chuckle before shaking his head at him. —I'll let you get situated, then. I'll be in my office, come see me once you're finished so that we can discuss tomorrow's business.— He seemed like he was about to leave, but he spoke up again. —Also, there will be a man waiting in the downstairs bathroom to cut your hair after your shower.— Then, he began walking back down the hallway, headed for the staircase and sliding his hands into his trouser pockets on the way.

Sebastian frowned somewhat and walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He blinked, surprised by the place; it all looked so clean and orderly, like new. He smirked faintly and walked to his bathroom, finding everything he needed to clean himself off in there. Then, he stopped in front of the mirror and stared at his reflection, frowning slightly as he didn't recognize himself for a moment. His appearance really was terrible, like a homeless man who hadn't showered in ages. The sniper then looked over at the bathtub and shower, both free for his use, which brought a smile to his face. He stepped over to the bathtub, preparing it, feeling excited since it had been ages since the last time he actually had a nice and relaxing bath.

The Irishman hummed to himself as he made his way down the stairs again. Before taking the trip to his office, he detoured to the kitchen, requesting a pot of tea, as well as a nice meal to be prepared by the time he and Sebastian had time to talk about business after the sniper cleaned himself up. Jim then walked to his office, so far quite pleased with how this entire process was going, and very happy that he got Sebastian to agree so far. Already, Sebastian was so much better than his last bodyguard and sniper, and he hadn't even been on a job yet.

Sebastian took his time in the bath, enjoying it, making sure he was as clean as possible since he was not going to let this opportunity of a nice bath escape, life was too unpredictable and he wasn't sure when was he going to be able to take another one. When he was done with the bath and was completely clean, he remembered what Jim had told him about a man that was going to help him cut his hair, but he was not going to let anyone fix him. _I can fix myself_. He thought to himself and looked into through bathroom's drawers, finding a shaving machine and razors. The sniper cut all his hair, shaving it off very short like it used to be when he was in the army, and then patiently started to shave his face completely. He cut his nails and cleaned them, brushing his teeth and putting on some clothes he found in the closet. He now looked way different, like a totally new man. Standing in front of the mirror, he smiled slightly when he recognized himself a bit more; a quite handsome man wearing some fancy and casual clothes instead of a homeless and smelly man. Liking what he saw in the mirror a lot, he found cologne and put on some, modeling in front of the mirror, already loving this job. It was when his stomach started growling that he remembered why he left of his flat in the first place: to find money for food. He was starving and looked at the hour, a bit late for dinner, but for Sebastian it was never too late for eating, sex or a drink. Seb then cleared his throat and walked out of the bedroom, wondering where Jim was, recalling where Jim said his office was and heading there.

Jim had been in his office for the duration of the time that Sebastian was in the bathroom. He checked his emails, replying to a few of them, and made a short phone call, figuring Sebastian would take his time, so he had long enough to make the call. When he was brought the pot of tea, he had his chef pour him a cup, and then shooed him out of the room. James decided to play classical music on his laptop while he replied to a few more of his emails. He even called one of his guards outside just to check that Sebastian hadn't left, considering how long he was taking.

The house was quite big, but fortunately Sebastian found the office door, walking to it and knocking gently. The criminal was sitting at his mahogany desk, sipping at a cup of tea when the knock interrupted his music. Pressing pause, he glanced at the door, and then called. —Come in.—

Sebastian took a deep breath before he opened the door, peering inside for a second before stepping in, a bit nervous of what Jim might say about his new look and clothes. Closing the door behind him, he walked closer to stand in front the fancy desk. Jim didn't look at Sebastian until he was standing in front of the desk, too busy closing out of his emails, but when he did look up, he choked slightly on his last drink of tea, coughing a couple of times before he managed to breathe normally again. Sebastian wasn't really expecting that, and when Jim choked on his tea he stared at him with an unamused expression.

—Wow... You clean up nice.— Jim commented, slowly scanning the other man over with his eyes for a moment before looking back up at his face, setting his tea cup aside. —Sit down.— The Irishman gestured to the chair across the desk from him. The sniper sat down in the chair and watched the Irishman with a not very happy expression still as he felt like Jim was somehow making fun of him.

—Tea?— Jim asked.

—Tea? No I don't want tea; I want food and a drink.— Seb replied.

Jim continued to stare at him for a moment, remaining quite in shock from the change Sebastian went through. —Yes, well there will be a meal ready when we finish talking. For now, we have business to discuss.— Seb seemed fairly disgruntled since he didn't like to talk about business with an empty stomach, but he had been dealing with an empty stomach for a while so he simply sighed deeply and nodded.

—I believe you wanted to talk about payment. My only question is, how much are you expecting to get paid for one kill? Because if you're as good as your file says, I'd be willing to pay quite a hefty sum of money.—

—Well it depends... Tell me about tha' _hefty sum of money_ you're talking about, then I'll tell ya my price.— Seb said simply, not going to go for less if he didn't know how much this man was willing to pay for a kill.

—Depending on the kill, the hours you have to spend on it, and your successfulness in leaving no trail of yourself, which won't be hard, I'd say around 5,000 pounds. You might even get up to 15,000, it all depends.— Jim shrugged, making Sebastian narrow his eyes but he still listened closely. —Of course, if you think you deserve more, we can negotiate that. But that's a typical starting price considering you'll also be getting compensation for your bodyguard duty and you're given a place to live, food, and some clothes free of charge—. Jim eyed the man across from him patiently, wanting tremendously to be able to sign a contract with him, but knowing Sebastian wouldn't agree to that, at least not yet.

Sebastian nodded slowly as he listened, and then he smirked —So... I will have a home, food and clothes free of charge... Plus you pay per kill.— Seb nodded once again slowly, narrowing his eyes as he thought about it for a moment. —Sounds good... Though, I'll go for 10,000 per kill even if it's an easy one and those that are difficult to accomplish will have the price of 25,000 to 30,000.— Seb smiled slightly at him. —We can start with tha', with the opportunity of raising those numbers of course... M'givin' ya this amount because I know my skills, I know wha' I can do... I will never miss a target, _ever_ , and you can count on havin' the job done when you want and exactly how ya want it... M'tha' confident.— The sniper smiled almost smugly. —Wha' do ya think?—

James smirked at Sebastian's confidence. A good sign to him, as long as the other man didn't become _too_ cocky, but he was definitely willing to pay as much as Sebastian was asking if he was as good as he had been hoping. —If, tomorrow, you prove yourself to be as good as you say you are, I can easily pay you that much. You'll get 10,000 for tomorrow's kill, just because it will be easy and I need to be sure that your aim is as good as your talk.— Jim glanced at his computer, quickly typing something, but he didn't say what. He was making a note of the prices so that he could keep track of them. —I'm assuming you still want to be paid in advance for tomorrow's kill? If you allow me to properly employ you, I won't be paying in advance. I don't do that. But I will do it this time if you would still like that. And do you prefer being paid in cash, or do you simply want the money transferred to a bank account of yours?— The criminal asked, leaning back in his chair with a confident smile.

Sebastian smiled in return, quite pleased with himself at Jim's words. —Yeh, in advance and yeh, in cash... And no, I don't have a bank account. After tomorrow's kill and once I have the last bill in my hands, then we'll talk about it becoming permanent.—

—I have a feeling a bank account would be wise if you're planning on continuing to work for me. You shouldn't be keeping that much cash just lying around.— Jim advised him, sitting up a little straighter, his hands folded on the table. —I'll give you the cash tomorrow, since the kill will be tomorrow evening.— He hoped that the other man really was as good as he said.

Sebastian leaned back in the chair. —This is like Christmas y'know? Y'have yer doubts about Santa Claus until ya see yer presents under the tree.— He smirked.

—It's good you finally seem to enjoy this opportunity. Now, is there anything else we need to discuss, or are you ready for dinner?—

Sebastian was about to stand up and rush to the kitchen until something in the back of his head made his smile fade and he cleared his throat. The Irishman furrowed his brow in confusion as he saw the smile fade from Sebastian's face. —Well um... There is somethin'... I mean... If I accept yer offer then...— Seb stopped for a moment to think about it before he continued. —I'll need ya to make me disappear _completely_... I don't really know how big y'are out there or how powerful you are bu' if y'could do this fer me... Make me disappear... My files, my records everywhere, it's out there, everyone could search me and see my dishonorable discharge, who was my family, my past, everything... I want those records and files gone... Not only because I would need tha' fer security since m'gonna be blowin' up brains for ya… I mean is not like someone is gonna be lookin' fer me, I have no one... No family or friends so, its jus' fer security, it'll be like I'm officially dead.— Seb explained calmly, yet in a serious tone.

—Hm... I'm glad we're on the same page. I was going to wait to tell you until you had more time to think about whether or not you'd be accepting my offer, but yes. You wouldn't be allowed any friends, girlfriends, boyfriends, partners of any kind, anyone. So it's best for your identity to be wiped from every retrievable data source. I am, admittedly, quite powerful in these matters, so if you do choose to work for me that can definitely be done. Your records would all need to be gotten rid of for security purposes anyway.— Jim shrugged. —I suppose this might not matter to you considering you just said you don't have any family or friends, but I can also fake your death. That's easier on loved ones, and it's what I typically would do, but if you want all information on you completely gone, it may be best not to do that.—

Sebastian thought about it for a moment and sighed deeply, scratching the back of his head. —I guess it's the best fer everyone right?— Seb smirked slightly and then cleared his throat. —Though... Now tha' ya mention tha' little detail about havin' no one at all... Which I mean, I have no one but in case I wanted to have some friends I'd like to know all the details... To have a contract with every single detail in it... Y'know, you as a business man shouldn't have a problem with tha'... Havin' a clear contract is always good fer all kind of deals and business. I'll read it and then... I'll give ya my final answer, deal?—

James smirked, remarkably thankful that Sebastian asked for a contract. It would make this all a lot easier, and would allow Jim to be much more organized and straightforward with the man. —That's a deal. I can have a contract for you by tomorrow morning. Also, you can make friends with the guards, but that's about it.— He chuckled. —And as you should have realized, they're not great at conversation. Now, food? I'm quite certain our meal has been prepared by now.—

Sebastian nodded, not saying anything else about the matter. He was quite a solitary man and wasn't very good at making friends anyway. He was aware that he would be alone most of his life but never imagined he would be alone by contract, which made him a bit sad, but the feeling disappeared in the matter of a moment before standing up. —Yes, food... I think the last time I had a proper meal was... like two weeks ago, the other days I just ate wha'ever I could find.—

James shook his head at those words. —You won't have to worry about not having another meal if you stay working for me.— He stated as he rose from his chair. After shutting his laptop, he led Sebastian over to the door, opening it and leaving the room, once again stuffing his hands into his pockets. —Close the door behind you.— The Irishman mentioned, continuing to walk in the direction of the kitchen.

Seb did as he was told, taking mental notes of the Irishman's actions, noticing what he is supposed to do if he is going to work for him, following right behind him. —May I ask... How long have ya been in this business?—

—If you're worried about me being an amateur, you shouldn't be. I've been doing this for well over ten years. A very long time.— Jim answered, looking back at the other man briefly, still appreciating how Sebastian looked now that he was cleaned up. James walked into the joint kitchen and dining room with him, taking a seat at the head of the table. There were two people cooking in the kitchen, and platters of food laid out on the kitchen island. The criminal gestured around the table. —Sit wherever you like. They'll serve us.—

Sebastian followed him and glanced around the kitchen, the smell of food making him even hungrier but he tried to control himself. The sniper trusted Jim a bit, but not enough to be that close to him, sitting down at the other head of the table, that way he could see him face to face all the time, have him close but not too close. The consulting criminal took careful mental notes of where Sebastian sat himself at the table. A small smirk formed on his lips, but he didn't make a comment on Sebastian's seating choice, knowing there could be many reasons for it. —M'not worried about ya being an amateur, someone who wears suits tha' pretty and fancy is clearly not an amateur, I was just curious.— Seb said simply, watching him closely.

—Good.— Jim replied, resting his elbows on the tabletop and lacing his fingers beneath his chin. Soon enough, the two men in the kitchen were bringing food over to them, laying it all out in the center of the table. There was pasta, salad, fruit salad, steak, and other vegetables, along with a line of drink choices across one side of the table. Plates were placed in front of them atop placemats, along with a complete set of silverware, a glass of water, and a wine glass for a separate drink. It was like being at a restaurant.

Sebastian's eyes opened widely at the amount of food in front of him, gulping hard and pursing his lips together as his mouth almost watered. Clearing his throat, he looked over pretty much everything and then glanced at Jim. —Do ya have dinner like _this_ every single night?—

—Basically, yes.— James nodded, having been watching Sebastian look over the food, the other man's hunger very obvious even if not expressed verbally. —Feel free to get yourself whatever you like, I'll wait.— He gestured to the food before them, and the two men who had cooked the food and served them left the room for the moment. —And just for future reference, you can request any food you like and the cooks will make it for you.—

His eyes almost shone at that and he beamed, really liking this job now. He didn't waste more time as he reached to fill his plate with pretty much everything he could. While waiting for Sebastian to finish getting food from the center of the table, James simply analyzed him. Jim was not gathering much information at the moment, but he was taking great care in watching the way Sebastian held himself, and especially his hands. Jim found his hands fascinating for some reason, and continued to stare at them until Sebastian had finished putting food on his plate.

Sebastian didn't wait another second before he started to eat eagerly and happily, forgetting about manners, he was too busy enjoying the food to worry about eating with etiquette. The criminal then served himself a little bit of most of the things on the table, being exceptionally calm and collected, a strong contrast from Sebastian's behavior. He sat up straight as he began to eat, intentionally not making conversation so that Sebastian could eat uninterrupted.

Sebastian ate emphatically, humming in content at the taste, taking big bites, swallowing and reaching for his glass of wine and downing it before he kept eating. He seemed like a hungry animal that had been starving for weeks. When his plate was almost empty he filled it again.

James on the other hand ate his food slowly, only about halfway through his own meal when Sebastian went in for seconds. He didn't comment, didn't mind at all, really, knowing Sebastian needed and wanted the food and knowing he shouldn't ridicule him if he actually wanted him to take the job. Once he was finished, he sipped the rest of his wine and then leant back in his seat, relaxed.

Seb kept eating until he was fully satisfied. He left the plate completely empty, sighing deeply and placing a hand on his belly, grinning. —I don't remember the last time I ate and felt full, I missed tha' feelin'.— Seb said and wiped his mouth. A small smile was the consulting criminal's response to Sebastian's words. Then Sebastian drank his water, but only a sip before he frowned, setting it down. —Don't ya have a stronger drink?—

Jim shook his head at the question. —Of course, there are stronger drinks here, but nothing that you're going to be getting anytime soon. Remember, I've been keeping an eye on you, Tiger.— He had decided to use the nickname again, liking it quite a lot. Sebastian frowned again at the nickname. —Considering the fact that you previously spent money on drinks instead of food, I'd say you have a drinking problem.—

Sebastian's frown grew bigger at the last bit, almost glaring at Jim. —I don't have a drinkin' problem... I jus' fancy one a'right? If I prefered drinkin' over food is because whiskey helps at nights especially when it's a very cold night.— Seb huffed and shook his head, reaching for his water and taking another sip.

—Hm. Alright, one drink then. Nothing more.— James pushed his chair back and stood up, walking across the room to where the kitchen was. —You must understand I don't have any reason to trust you. I'm certain you feel the same way about me.— He retrieved a short glass from the cupboard, looking back at Sebastian. —Whiskey, then? And ice?—

Seb nodded as an answer to his question, remaining silent before he looked back at the criminal —Also... What's with the damn Tiger thing huh? Where did ya get tha' from?—

The criminal turned around to fixate his full attention on him. —What? You don't like it? I think it's fitting.— He smirked and spun back to the counter, taking a bottle of whiskey from a nearby cupboard and an ice cube tray from the freezer. Jim placed an ice cube in the glass and poured in a decent amount of whiskey.

Sebastian frowned at that, staring down at the table. —S'not tha'... Its jus' tha' _that_ nickname in particular is…— He shook his head. —Nothin'.— Not wanting to share that with him yet since he didn't know him at all and that story was too personal, Seb ended his sentence with a simple word.

After putting everything back in their respective places, James brought the drink over to Sebastian, placing it upon the table before him. Sebastian nodded in a thankful way. —What about the nickname?— Jim inquired curiously, resuming his seat at the head of the table.

Sebastian ignored the question about the nickname, reaching for the glass and taking a gulp. He blinked, surprised at the taste that was way better than those cheap whiskies he used to drink. —Oh wow... thanks.—

The Irishman grinned a bit at the surprise in Sebastian's voice, nodding slowly. —No answer then, Bastian?— Jim was testing different kinds of nicknames, seeing if they all bothered him the same or if any other ones would annoy him as much as the Tiger one. He couldn't tell why Sebastian didn't like it or what kind of story was behind it.

Sebastian peered at him and then down at his drink, shaking it slightly, listening to the ice and admiring the color and taste of it, liking it a lot though a small frown appeared on his face at Jim's continued prying. —It's um... kind of personal.— Seb looked at him and smiled faintly.

—Huh. Something I somehow don't know, then.— James pressed his lips together.

—No one really calls me Tiger, and I am not sure if I like it or not... So, tha's why I feel weird when ya use tha' nickname.—

—I'm still going to call you that. It fits you very well, you know. At least as far as I can tell from all my deductions and watching your behavior.— The consulting criminal didn't bother to explain what he meant, shrugging at him.

Seb narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to the side slightly. —My... behavior?— The sniper smiled, chuckling softly. —Are ya sayin' tha' I act like an animal? A tiger?— He took a sip from his drink.

—Perhaps not all the time, but certainly when you're trapped.— Jim expanded on his statement somewhat, taking a sip from his half-empty glass of water. —It's very specific to a tiger, I'm not sure why but, the nickname _Tiger_ fits you, so. Why not?— The criminal reasoned simply, not quite sure how to explain it in a way that didn't sound odd.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. —M'not sure if I should take tha' as an insult or a compliment.— He said a bit amused, feeling sleepy now. Eating that much made him tired but tried to hide it, enjoying his glass of fancy and probably expensive whiskey.

Jim brought the glass of water to his lips once more before saying anything. —Trust me, it is definitely a compliment.— He reassured the man, just as the two cooks returned. They trekked over to the table, first clearing off the dishes used by Jim and Sebastian, and then starting to clean up the excess food. James made eye contact with Sebastian. —Do you want any dessert?—

Blinking, a bit surprised, realizing that maybe he shouldn't have eaten that much, Seb chuckled softly. —I'd love to get some but m'way too full fer dessert.— He looked down at his drink. —I guess I'll jus' finish this one and then head to bed if y'don't mind.— He said calmly, deep inside wishing he could drink the whole bottle but not wanting Jim to mention his drinking problem again.

Jim nodded at him in response. —Feel free. It is getting rather late.— Of course, he'd probably stay up a bit longer working, but he understood why Sebastian was tired, considering how he had been living recently. He pushed his index finger around the rim of the glass slowly, watching the ice in it adjust.

The sniper examined him closely and narrowed his eyes, analyzing him, reading him or at least trying to. He was observant but not as much as Jim was. He then downed his drink and smiled. —Now this is damn good whiskey... The best I had in years.— He stood up, leaving the glass on the table. —I enjoyed dinner as well; it was delicious, thank you.—

Jim stayed seated, nodding at Sebastian and letting his eyes follow him. —Of course. I trust you can find your way back to your bedroom. Try not to go into any of the locked rooms. Ask a guard if you need help getting somewhere.— He responded slowly, finishing off his glass of water and then crossing his arms over his chest.

—I know my way back. Goodnight Mr. Irishman.— Sebastian said with a small smirk and started venturing back the way they came.

—Moriarty.— Jim called over his shoulder. He knew that Sebastian was likely just trying to be annoying at this point, but he still wasn't enjoying it.

Sebastian smirked when he heard Jim correct him and kept walking, heading to his bedroom.

A few minutes later, James went back to his office to finish up some email replies and continue typing out the other man's contract.

Sebastian undressed as soon as he got to his room, leaving the clothes on the floor as he flopped down on the comfortable bed, smiling at how cozy it actually was, feeling extremely happy now that he didn't have to sleep on that dirty and broken mattress. He got under the duvet and curled up, almost immediately falling asleep.

Jim worked long enough to finish the contract, printing out a copy of it and stapling the papers together. He placed it on the end of his desk before rising to his feet and leaving the room, heading upstairs and into his own bedroom. After changing into a t-shirt and sweatpants, he climbed into bed, smiling to himself about having been able to recruit Sebastian, soon falling asleep to the thought.


	5. I'm Known To Be Quite Vexing

**5\. I'm Known To Be Quite Vexing**

Sebastian slept for several hours, until the sun came into the room, making him open his eyes slowly. His hands moved around, trying to find his bottle of whiskey, but when he didn't find it, a frown appeared on his face, sitting up and realizing he was not in his flat. He was at the Irishman's house, all clean and cozy in bed. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, admiring his room again. The sniper stayed in bed for a while, liking the sensation of not being hungry or hungover, though he did crave a nice scotch. He then remembered what he had to do today and sat up, getting out of bed to take a quick shower and get ready.

James woke up around the same time as Sebastian did. He slid out of bed, his hair quite messy, and then began looking through his wardrobe for a suit to wear that day. Figuring he should wear another nice one, he picked out one of his favorites, which was a shark blue, sort of blue-gray. He strolled into the bathroom that was attached to his bedroom and turned on the shower, humming to himself happily as he thought about Sebastian. Jim showered rather swiftly, did his hair, and fixed his eyebrows before he began getting dressed. After putting on the chosen suit, he adjusted the cufflinks and his tie in his full length mirror, and exited the room. As he passed, he left a sticky note on Sebastian's door that read: "In my office. Come talk to me when you're ready. The contract is finished. JM x." The criminal then headed to his office, as pointed out on the note, and took a seat at his desk, reading over the contract once more.

Sebastian finished his shower and smiled at himself still whenever he saw his reflection, liking the way he looked now. He saw the clothes he wore at dinner the night before and picked them up. He would usually put them on if they were all he had, but that wasn't the case anymore. Now, he had a closet full of new clothes for him. Deciding to go for something casual, he chose blue jeans, a white shirt, and a leather jacket, liking his new clothes a lot. He then walked out and found the note on the door, nodding and heading to Jim's office, remembering where it was. When he found it, he knocked on the door.

Jim was still seated at his desk when Sebastian rapped on the door. He flipped the pages of the contract back to the front cover, set it behind his laptop so that it would be directly in front of Sebastian when he sat down, and shut his computer.

—Come in.— The criminal called, leaning back in his seat and placing his arms on the armrests, raising one hand to rest his chin against it.

Sebastian walked in and smiled slightly, closing the door behind him. —Mornin'.— He said as he walked to the desk, noticing the suit Jim was wearing. _It's gorgeous_. Sebastian thought.

Thankfully, Jim had not made the mistake again of having tea while Sebastian entered the room. Managing not to react physically, he couldn't help but look the man over several times, beginning to wonder why he had made his life much more difficult by giving Sebastian a full wardrobe of clothes that would look so nice on him.

—Good morning.— The Irishman replied after a moment of silence, turning to face him as he folded his hands on the desk. —Have a seat, the contract's there if you want to read it now, or you can take it with you.— Jim shrugged, and Sebastian sat in the chair on the other side of the desk, looking at the contract with a small smile.

—I hope it doesn't have tiny words written all over the place, no funny business right?— The sniper reached for it and viewed the first page.

—No funny business.— Jim shook his head in confirmation. He was quite confident Sebastian would agree to the job considering his behavior thus far, and so hadn't tried to trick him with fine print.

—Did ya make this fer me only? Or do ya give this to everyone y'want to hire?— Seb glanced up at him.

—It's an altered version of the one I gave to the last man in your position. The same general rules, but tailored to fit you.— Jim explained, smiling at him faintly.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. —Y'are passionate about wha' ya do, I can tell.— He said as he opened the contract.

—I wouldn't be doing it if I wasn't.— The criminal remarked and Sebastian nodded, starting to read the contract in silence. Letting him read the contract, Jim pulled his phone out of his pocket in order to answer texts so that he was not simply staring at Sebastian.

Among the general rules and the outline of the job, such as following orders and doing the job well, there were other things listed, such as the fact that Sebastian must live with James at all times unless out on a particularly long job, he couldn't indulge excessively in alcohol, and he was not permitted cigarettes or drugs. That part made the sniper frown deeply, looking at Jim for long seconds before sighing and focusing back on reading the contract. He was not permitted to have relationships with people outside of Jim's small inner network of people, couldn't have family, friends, or romantic attachments, and was not allowed to have sex unless it would not interrupt a job or it was required, basically meaning that he needed Jim's permission. That made Sebastian frown even more, groaning slightly in annoyance but still silent verbally. It was also listed in the contract that Sebastian wouldn't go against Jim's orders, and wouldn't let himself go, which included allowing his physical state to become messy, and wouldn't attempt to leave the job, all under penalty of death.

When the sniper finished, he placed the contract on the desk and looked up at Jim, still frowning slightly. —I must disagree with two things in 'ere which I found completely ridiculous if ya ask me.—

Jim rolled his eyes the second Sebastian said he disagreed with some of the things in the contract. —Of course you have to be stubborn.— He sighed, and waited for Sebastian to tell him the problems.

Sebastian opened the contract and pointed at a particular rule. —No smokin'?— He huffed and shook his head. —Scratch tha' out.—

The protest caused the Irishman to frown. —No cigarettes. I hate the smell and I'm not going to let you stink up the entire house. Plus that scent is difficult to get out of things; it will never come out of my suits if I allow you to smoke.—

Sebastian stared at him with an unamused expression before he pointed at the second rule. —No sex? Unless it's required? C'mon m'a hitman not a priest. I understand havin' no sentimental attachments and no family and no friends and no dog and no fish etc. etc., bu' no sex?— The ex-Colonel said in a bit of a sarcastic tone. —Wha'ever, scratch those two.—

Jim paused for a moment to think over the no sex rule. —Who are you going to be having sex with, anyway? You can't distract one of the guards, and if you have no relationships outside of this house, then I don't see the point of getting rid of that rule.—

Sebastian's frown deepened once more. —The contract says no friends, family or romantic attachments, one night stands don't count in those, I presumed y'knew this but now I see tha' y'don't. Who I have sex with is none of yer business... I do not break any rule when it comes to one night stands.— Sebastian then narrowed his eyes and continued. — _You_ should have some so y'know wha' they are and how they work.— He said, slightly angry.

—I have no interest in one night stands. They're distracting and pointless.— Jim informed him, and Seb simply stared at him. The Irishman glared at him for a long moment. —Sex will be permitted then, as long as no prostitutes are involved. I suppose I could hire some escorts for your needs. Otherwise, whoever you have sex with will need to be killed afterward.—

Sebastian tried to understand what he was negotiating with him, but his first concern was the cigarettes, nodding towards the first rule. —I can smoke outside, I promise not to smoke indoors so yer precious suits don't smell.—

At that, Jim huffed. —I don't care how many nicotine patches you use, but you can't smoke, even if it's outside. You'll still get it into my suits because _you'll_ smell like cigarettes.— The criminal said firmly, not going to budge on his rule about cigarettes.

Seb huffed and shook his head in disbelief. —Are ya seriously agreeing to let me have sex with escorts _you_ choose, but no way about smokin'?— He shook his head slightly.

—From what I've heard from the other guards, I hire some amazing escorts. That should be enough for you.—

—Tha' won't work... and I can shower afterwards if it bothers ya tha' much, bu' smokin' fer me is a main habit... Y'cannot take tha' away from me. Besides... Smokin' makes me focus y'know? I'll need my cigarettes to do my work perfectly, otherwise I'll be anxious and 'ave shaky hands.— Sebastian argued, making his hands shake as he spoke, obviously fucking with Jim but still not going to let this thing go. Jim observed his explanation with narrowed eyes.

—If cigarettes calm you down, some strong nicotine patches should have the same effect.— He tapped his fingertips on the desk, not wanting to lose Sebastian over this stupid rule but definitely not wanting cigarettes anywhere near his home. —You chose two things that you had a problem with in the contract; I'm letting you have one of them.—

Sebastian drummed his fingers on his knee, silent for many long seconds as he thought about it, shaking his head in disbelief before he groaned and scowled, almost growling. — _FINE._ No cigarettes.— Seb huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

A smirk formed on Jim's lips when he heard Sebastian's final response and he resisted the urge to sigh in relief, merely nodding. —Good. Do you have any other problems with the contract, or shall I edit that copy so that we can both sign it?— He asked, his body a bit less tense.

Sebastian looked at him incredulously, his tone almost sarcastic. —Why are ya askin' me if I 'ave _other_ problems with the contract if I can only have one change? Of course I have a problem.—

Jim offered a very light chuckle. —You never know, Bastian. I'm just checking so that I can be aware of said problems in the future, but if you'd rather have no chance of changing the rules, that's fine with me.— The criminal shrugged, reaching across the desk to pick up the contract, but Sebastian quickly placed his hand on it to stop Jim from taking it, looking at him directly.

—If there is a problem with future issues there _will_ be a chance to change the rules if we both agree on tha'... Is tha' clear?— Sebastian said firmly.

Jim kept his grip on the corner of the contract, raising an eyebrow him. —You really like to pretend you're the man in charge, don't you?— He chuckled softly. —I suppose issues can be discussed later if they come up, but for now, this contract is good enough for you?—

—The contract is good enough yeh... fer now.— The ex-Colonel said, letting go of the contract and leaning back against his chair. —And I don't like to pretend, I _am._ —

—I believe in a typical work setting, the boss is the one in charge.— James mused, pulling the contract back over to himself and placing it on the desk, opening his laptop so that he could make the final draft of the contract. —Would you like to sign it now or are you still going to wait until after the kill today?—

Sebastian smiled slightly and hummed in thought for a moment before he nodded. —You've given me a lot... food, a home, clothes... It's me turn to give ya somethin'... I like wha' y'are offerin' and I decided to show ya wha' I can do, so you can see if y'like it or not... It's like a, mutual agreement.— Seb raised his eyebrows at him. —Wha' do ya think?—

Jim listened to him and slowly nodded his head. —Yes. That sounds good.— He responded, his attention on Sebastian for a moment before he switched it back to the computer, beginning to type. Sebastian nodded once, wanting Jim to know that he knew how to make business too. In a couple of seconds, Jim was printing a new contract, stapling it together, and placing it atop the old one on the desk.

Sebastian looked over at the contract and then back at him. —Are we gonna have breakfast?—

James nodded. —Business always comes before meals, but breakfast should be ready by now. Hope you're just as hungry as before. I believe they made a lot.— He said with a smile. —If that concludes our business, then shall we go eat?—

Seb smiled. —We'll see later this evenin' if we sign these papers or not.— Then, he stood up and stretched.

—I do hope we will.— James stood up as well, walking to the door. He opened it and exited the room, this time expecting Sebastian to shut it behind him without Jim having to say anything. Sebastian followed him, almost forgetting about the door but quickly closing it, catching up with him.

—I can show you the gun collection after we eat if you'd like.— Jim offered, pushing his hands into his pockets again.

—Yeh... I'd love to see the tools I am countin' with, tools are always important.— Sebastian said with a small smirk.

—I think you'll be able to find something you love within the wide selection, considering there's a whole room dedicated just to guns.— The criminal explained as they entered the kitchen. The table was already set, laid out exactly like it was the night before, but this time with all kinds of breakfast foods: eggs, bacon, toast, beans, waffles, etc.

Sebastian's eyes almost shone, along with his mouth watering. He smiled widely and looked at Jim, walking to the table to sit down in the spot he had picked the night before. —With such good cooks can't believe y'are this skinny.—

—I choose not to eat a lot; it interferes with my ability to analyze and my ability to think.— Jim clarified, taking his seat at the head of the table once again. Just like the night before, he sat back and let Sebastian dish his meal up first, smiling a little.

Sebastian filled his plate happily. —It's been ages since the last time I had some nice crispy bacon.— He said as he got a lot of bacon, and pretty much everything available.

James waited patiently before he began to serve up his own plate, only getting a small portion of most of the things on the table. —If all goes well, you'll be able to have it every morning from now on.—

—Well sounds great to me.— The sniper said before he added syrup to everything on the plate and started eating happily, quite eagerly just like before, humming in content at the taste.

James couldn't help but chuckle softly at the fact that Sebastian poured syrup over everything. He slowly began to eat his own meal, sipping at his cup of coffee intermittently with a small hum as he ate. Soon enough, he had finished his meal, and was leaning back, sipping at his coffee in a relaxed manner.

Sebastian finished his second plate, drinking orange juice and coffee when he was done, watching Jim closely and now seeming satisfied. —Wanna start givin' some details about my _target?_ —

—I will give you a file on him later, but I suppose I can give you a few details now if you'd like. What do you want to know?— Jim inquired, taking a long sip of coffee as he gazed across the table at Sebastian.

The sniper shrugged. —I mean the details, how ya want me to kill him, it must be hilarious and I can't wait but... M'curious, why him? Why like tha'? Wha' did he do to ya?— Seb asked curiously.

James chuckled lightly and shook his head at that, finishing his coffee and placing the empty ceramic cup on the table. —He made a deal with me. He then backed out of it. Plus, he's an absolute idiot, so he won't be at all hard to kill. I'd do it myself, but I don't like getting my hands dirty.—

Sebastian nodded in agreement. —I see... So anyone who backs out from a deal with ya is a dead man.— Seb narrowed his eyes. —I believe then tha' same goes fer people who work fer ya... If they somehow wanna quit the business… They will but instead of firin' 'em y'put 'em in a bag and bury them right?—

—Oh yes, it definitely applies to the people that work for me. And anyone that gets on my nerves, really. What do you think happened to the last guy in your position? There's a reason I needed someone to hire, and a reason I was very particular about who I was hiring.— A faint smirk appeared on the criminal's lips. —Didn't want it to turn out like last time.—

That made Sebastian chuckle softly. —My my... y'are intriguin' me again.— He downed his orange juice. —Tell me... Wha' happened to the last man in my position? Did he insult ya? Did he smoke inside the house? Didn't add enough sugar to yer tea?—

—He nearly missed on one of his kills, and then had the audacity to try and argue with me about it afterward.— He paused. —I shot him in the throat; ruined one of my best suits from the blood spray, actually.— Jim told the story; his arms crossed over his chest, and then made eye contact with Sebastian. —I'd advise you not to be as stupid.—

Sebastian chuckled softly and shook his head, amused. —Idiots, I've never missed a shot... Not even when I was wasted which won't happen while m'workin' I promise ya but... About arguin'.— Seb hissed and tilted his head to the side. —M'jus' warnin' ya, m'known to be quite vexin'.— He smirked.

—Hm, that's good.— Jim nodded slowly at him and then smiled mildly. —I can already tell that you're quite stubborn and frustrating, but you're not too bad.— He observed with a small shrug of his shoulders. —Besides, your attractiveness makes up for it. You're at least nice to look at, even when you are argumentative.—

Sebastian wasn't expecting the weird compliment that had him trying to suppress a wide smile without much success. He then nodded in agreement and stood up slowly. —Well now tha' we're clear on how annoyin' we are, can we go back to business? I'd like to see my tools.—

— _I'm_ not annoying.— Jim made sure to clarify, shaking his head at Sebastian. —Of course. Follow me.— He stood from his seat and led Sebastian off toward the main entry room again. Instead of going toward Jim's office, though, they went down a hallway next to the staircase, but straight ahead from the front door. The Irishman pulled his keys out of his pocket, unlocking a room near the end of the hallway and pushing open the door for Sebastian, letting him enter first. The room was purely guns, shelves of different kinds lining the walls, along with two tables in the middle of the room.

As soon as Seb walked in, a broad smile appeared on his face, looking around and nodding. —This is beautiful... Amazing.— He said as he walked to one of the shelves and tables, reaching to touch the guns. —Hello darlin'.— He picked up a 9mm Glock, holding it so delicately that it almost seemed like he was holding a baby.

James watched him, a small smirk forming on his lips as he studied Sebastian's actions and movements. The other man clearly cared about guns and had a strong interest in them, which was very, very good for his job. —You can pick any gun you like to perform your job with. If we sign the contract tonight, you'll be issued a personal handgun to have with you at all times.—

At this point, Sebastian didn't seem to be listening to Jim as he had his full attention on the gun in his hands, loading it and pointing it to a random spot in the room. —God I can't wait to use this baby.— Jim eyed him, his smirk growing even as Sebastian seemed to ignore him, admiring Sebastian's focus on the gun. Seb smirked and then looked at Jim, blinking a bit. —Oh um... did ya say somethin'?—

—Yes, but we'll talk about it later. Is that the gun you're planning on using for the kill tonight or were you going to pick another one?— Jim raised an eyebrow at him.

—Oh no, this one will come with me.— Seb said as he put it down and took out the bullets. —I'll just need this one.— He looked around for the right holster and smiled when he found it. —I feel like I'm about to run into the battlefield, feels awesome.—

The consulting criminal smiled at Sebastian's reaction and nodded. —Hm, I'm glad you're enjoying this so much. Would you like the file on this man now? There's also another weapons room through the door to the left of this one, in case you wanted to look around in there.—

—Well... depends, show me the file, explain exactly wha' I must do and then I'll see if I need more tools.— Seb then frowned slightly. —Remind me... ya want it to look like an accident?— Seb asked and Jim shook his head at Sebastian's words.

—Not an accident, but I need you to not be traceable. The bullets are unmarked so that's taken care of, but don't leave fingerprints on anything and make sure you only use the ammo given to you. Don't enter the man's flat, either, unless you can promise you won't leave any evidence you were there. I can get the file and bring it to you here if you want to look around a bit more.—

Seb narrowed his eyes. —Don't enter? Then I'll have to take another baby with me.— He looked around and smiled, walking to the rifles and taking one. —SR-25, one badass motherfucker.— He said, taking a few bullets. —I'll look for a distance shot but if there are no windows open then I'll have to enter, leaving trace of where the killer stood gives away tiny clues, better be safe than sorry don't ya think?—

—Mm, sounds perfect.— Jim agreed as he viewed Sebastian handling the gun. He was so glad to have found Sebastian. Just like the criminal thought, Sebastian knew his guns well, and he knew how not to leave any meaningful evidence behind. He truly was the best man for the job.

Sebastian prepared his weapon in a matter of a few seconds, before he nodded at Jim. —Now I'm ready.—

—Great. Let's go get you his file, then.— James said, already heading for the door with a small smile on his face, excited about finally getting to see Sebastian performing one of his oh-so notorious kills.

—Let's.— Seb said with a wide smile and followed him out, quite eager as well though he tried to keep it cool.

The consulting criminal led Sebastian out of the room, locking the door behind them. —If you agree to work for me, you may be privileged with a key to that room. For now, though, it stays locked.— Jim trekked back toward the entry room and then through it to his office.

—That's mean... Wha' if someone comes in 'ere and attacks yer house? Y'aint gonna stop to look fer the damn key, y'just' walk in and empty those babies on those rats.— Seb said almost happily like he was talking about some game. Jim found Sebastian's tone of voice and the way he spoke about it to be a good sign.

—I have guns in my bedroom and my office, and I carry one on me at all times. You have some in your bedroom. These are more, special weapons. But I'm glad you're thinking about that, you'll make an excellent bodyguard.— The criminal pointed out and led him into his office, opening up one of the file drawers of his desk.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him. —At this point and now tha' I've seen the contract, I realize tha' I wouldn't be jus' yer bodyguard.— He mentioned, leaving the rifle aside gently as he sat back down in front of his desk.

—What do you mean by that? Bodyguard and sniper, really; you'll be my right hand man, as long as you behave yourself and do your job well.— James removed the file from the drawer, laying it in front of Sebastian atop the desk. Seb smiled at those words and said nothing else about it, then reached for the file and started reading with fascinated eyes, really trying to hold back his excitement.

—Do I not get an answer?— Jim slowly pushed the file drawer shut, taking a seat and spinning to face Sebastian. He crossed his arms on the desk, watching him silently.

Sebastian chuckled softly and looked up at him. —M'tryin' to read 'ere... I need to concentrate.— He said with a smile, obviously teasing but not, his eyes really looking down at the file, reading it.

James groaned in annoyance. —Now I'm curious.— He whined, adjusting in his seat before letting out a defeated sigh, deciding that he probably should let Sebastian read over the file if he wanted him to do a good job on the kill.

Seb chuckled softly and glanced at him for a second before he looked down and nodded slowly as he finished reading. —Y'are right... an easy target.— He looked at the picture of the target and smirked. —Looks like an idiot.— He chuckled softly.

—Yes, he is an idiot. Only an idiot would make the same mistakes he did.— The criminal grumbled angrily, tapping his fingers on the armrest of his chair. —Would you like to leave for the job before or after dinner tonight?— He lifted a brow at the man across from him.

—Before dinner.— Seb said as he closed the file. —I always get hungry after a kill, well I used to anyways, It's been a veeeery long time since the last time I killed anyone.—

—I hope you enjoy tonight, then. Will you be needing any other weapons?— He once again folded his arms atop the desk, his gaze fixed on Sebastian intently. James couldn't wait to watch Sebastian's kill. He already had cameras set up around the area so that he could record it, and had even had them installed in the man's house.

The ex-Colonel smiled at the question and nodded slowly. —Yes... I need one more thing and... Um— His smile grew wider. —Y'are not gonna like iiiiit~.— He spoke in a singing song voice.

A curious expression crossed the criminal's face as he moved to stand. —And what's that?— He asked, his voice calm despite the fact that he was already frustrated just from the fact that Sebastian was going to request something that he _knew_ Jim wasn't going to like.

Seb leaned back against his seat, raising his eyebrow in an amused expression. —Cigarettes darlin'... I need cigarettes.—

—Calling me darling now, are you?— Jim rubbed his right temple, making Seb smirk. —Nicotine patches.— The criminal answered him, still very firm on his rule against cigarettes, even if Sebastian hadn't signed the contract yet. —I'll give you as many nicotine patches as you want.—

Seb tilted his head to the side. —I haven't signed anythin' _darlin'._ — He said again to tease him while keeping a smug look on his face. —C'mon... I bet ya can get some pretty good cigarettes.—

—I obviously can, but I still don't _want_ to get you any— James strolled to the other side of the desk, where Sebastian was, leaning back against it with his arms crossed. —You think pet names will help convince me to give you cigarettes?—

Sebastian's smile faded, replaced with a deep frown. —Why do ya 'ave to be so damn difficult Mr. Irishman.— He crossed his arms over his chest.

—Are you ever going to call me anything but that?— James rolled his eyes before he continued speaking. —It's my job to be difficult.— He was considering allowing Sebastian to smoke one last time before the kill, but was trying to think of a way in his head to ensure that none of the scent would get into anything in the house.

Sebastian huffed and looked away with a matching roll of his eyes. —Mr. Irishman fits ya pretty well.— His eyes narrowed as he hummed in thought. —Unless ya want me to call ya Mr. Annoyin'.—

—I'd suggest you don't try calling me that unless you want a bullet through your skull, Tiger.— Jim nearly hissed, his glare sticking to Sebastian as he continued to mull over the prospect of giving in to allowing him cigarettes.

Seb stood up with another roll of his eyes. —Mr. Borin' then, or Mr. I-don't-get-jokes might fit ya better.— He said as he walked to take his rifle.

—How can one man be so annoying.— James muttered to himself, rubbing his face before turning his head to look at Sebastian. —Do you want nicotine patches or not? Or are you going to completely, one hundred percent insist on cigarettes?—

Seb placed the rifle over his shoulder and turned to him with a smirk. —Oh no I won't insist anymore... M'goin' out an' get some, I need some.—

—I'll get you good cigarettes if that's what you want, but you're going to have to follow my rules if you ever want to step foot in this house again. Otherwise I really will shoot you.— Jim frowned at him, seething at this point with how frustrating he found Sebastian.

The sniper smiled at that. —See? I knew we would get to an agreement.— He winked at him.

—A definite agreement.— Jim snarled at him, standing up straighter. —If you want cigarettes, you are going to wait to smoke them until you are near your position for the kill you will be doing tonight. When you get back, you will remove your clothes outside and they will be burned. You will be provided with a towel to come inside. You will use the downstairs bathroom and you will shower for two full hours until your skin is raw and that disgusting smell is out of your hair.— He scowled. —So if that's what you want, by all means, I'll get you cigarettes.—

Seb chuckled softly and watched him closely, though his smile faded completely when he didn't see Jim laughing with him, realizing that the criminal was being serious. —You _are_ kiddin'... right?—

—No. No I am not.— The consulting criminal said firmly, the scowl plastered upon his lips as he stared at Sebastian. —Oh, and since I want even less of that smell inside, and you'll already be undressed, I'll make sure you're hosed off outside as well.— He added, just to spite the other man.

Sebastian almost glared at him, frowning. —Tha's insane... It's freezin' outside! I won't, I...— He groaned and rolled his eyes. —Goddamn.— After letting out a defeated sigh and eyeing him for a few seconds, he nodded. —I'll 'ave those nicotine patches then.— He said in an annoyed tone.

—That's what I thought.— Jim's scowl faded slightly because he was pleased about winning the argument. —At least now you know the extent of my hatred for cigarettes.— He pulled his phone out of his pocket so that he could send a text requesting the patches. —They'll be here soon.—

Sebastian stared at him with an unamused expression. —My hatred fer ya right now is even bigger.—

—Oh, I can imagine.— James chuckled lightly as he put his phone away.

Seb growled and shook his head in disbelief. —Which isn't good cause m'highly armed.—

—Are you threatening to shoot me now?— James arched an eyebrow at the other man, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Seb smirked. —I wish I could... bu' y'should never bite the hand tha' feeds ya... right?—

—Very wise, Tiger, very wise.— The criminal smirked back at him. —So, whenever you're ready, there will be a car waiting for you outside to take you to a location near the man's flat. The driver will wait wherever you tell him to in order to pick you up and bring you back here after the kill. Should you choose not to sign the contract, you'll be allowed to stay another night, but then you'll be kicked out the next morning, back to your trash-filled apartment.—

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him. —Are ya threatenin' me? Tha's puttin' some pressure on me.— He chuckled softly.

—Not a threat; just the truth.— Jim answered, flashing a confident smirk at Sebastian. —Possibly an incentive for you to sign the contract. Don't worry. No pressure at all~.— His tone was almost sarcastic.

—After tonight we both will be sure if we want each other's company fer a long time.— Seb nodded.

—Oh, you saying that almost makes me not want you to sign that contract.— Jim said jokingly.

With that Seb smiled, then looked down at the rifle. —I'll be gone as soon as my nicotine patches arrive yeh?—

Jim gave a small roll of his eyes. —Might be around twenty minutes. You're not getting just any old boring nicotine patch that barely works.—

Seb lifted an amused eyebrow at those words. —Oooooh... so? Are those like the best nicotine patches? Imported from the best nicotine patch factory in the world?—

The consulting criminal shook his head. —Let's just say I'd only advise using one or two of them. They're not exactly for people trying to break a habit, more for people like you, who want the same amount of nicotine without the smell.—

—I don't mind the smell but Mr. Fancy-pants does.— The sniper said as he sat back down in the chair, looking up at him. —I'll try my best to quit smokin' bu' I don't promise ya anythin'.—

Jim's lip twitched, it taking all of his will power not to go on a rant about his expensive suits, how much they cost, how each one is tailored, how some of them are limited edition and how just one cigarette could ruin them all. Sebastian smiled widely, realizing just how easy it was to piss off the consulting criminal and somehow enjoying it. Instead of ranting, Jim took a slow breath, and merely said: —You'll have to learn to use nicotine patches instead.—

—I'll see how good they are yeh? As long as I get enough nicotine in my body then we won't have a problem.—

—I'm sure they'll be good enough for you, depending on how many cigarettes you typically smoke in a day.— The Irishman replied, his cold stare fixed on Sebastian as he made sure to let him know through that gesture that he better not start smoking again.

—I used to smoke a whole pack a day... y'tell me.— Seb chuckled softly and then yawned widely before he stretched. —Well not anymore of course, cigarettes in my position became very expensive ya know?—

James was clearly appalled by that new information, and he sighed softly. —I hope this all goes well, if only for your sake, so you don't die of lung cancer very soon.— He huffed.

Sebastian huffed back. —If I die it won't be because of lung cancer, believe me.— He said calmly and smirked.

—Why do you smoke?— Jim suddenly asked out of pure curiosity.

—I've been smokin' since I was fifteen, I don't even remember why I started, I jus' did.— Seb shrugged.

—Not if you continue to work for me… Why do you continue to do it? At this point the shakiness or the anxiety that you experience could just be caused by withdrawal.—

Sebastian frowned slightly. —I don't do many drugs to the point of callin' meself a drug addict yeh? At least not yet and my reasons fer smokin' are my business.— He crossed his arms over his chest.

—Do you ever stop being closed off and cocky?— James exhaled loudly and leaned back against the dark wooden desk more. —You don't have to be a drug addict to experience withdrawal.—

Seb smiled at his words but then he arched an eyebrow at him. —Oh really? Do ya know much about withdrawals? Why? How?— He asked with narrowed eyes. —Were you a drug addict?— He asked, teasing him still.

—Mm, don't pretend to know everything about someone just by the way they act now. For all you know, I could have done drugs in the past.— Jim shrugged and Seb stared at him curiously but Jim simply continued. —The point is, they're not good for you and neither are cigarettes.—

Seb rolled his eyes. —Y'sound like my mother, how terrible.— He looked away.

—Once again, it's just the truth.—

Then, the sniper glanced at Jim's clock with a frown on his face. —Where are my nicotine patches? It's been ages!—

After glancing at the clock as well, the criminal sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. —One moment. I have to make a call. Don't touch anything.— He headed for the door.

Seb's eyes followed him and smiled slightly. —I won't break anythin' nor piss on the carpet don't worry.— He looked around the office.

James rolled his eyes at the comment and exited the room, closing the door behind him. His voice could soon be heard very faintly through the door, though it was gradually fading as he walked down the hall. Only a few more seconds passed before his shouting was heard, and then dead silence.

Glancing over at the door, Seb listened closely, biting his lower lip. —Wow... Lil Irishman is pissed; I have to remember not to get on his bad side fer sure.— He stood up, walking around the office.

There's blank silence for the next few minutes, before the front door could be heard slamming. A gunshot sounded from the entry room. As soon as Sebastian heard the gunshot he withdrew his handgun, pointing it at the door firmly. Then Jim walked in, wiping blood splatter off his cheek with a handkerchief. Sebastian quickly lowered the gun and frowned deeply. —Nicotine patches are here.— The criminal said and held out the unmarked, white box to Sebastian.

—The fuck happened?!— Sebastian asked, a bit alarmed, still holding the gun.

Jim sighed and placed the box on the desk instead, gesturing to Sebastian's gun. —Put that away.— He folded up the bloodied handkerchief and placed it on his desk as well. —He was annoying me.—

Seb frowned slightly and looked over at the door then back at him, a bit worried. —Who was?!—

—The man who was supposed to be getting those nicotine patches.— Jim elaborated

—Didn't he get the right nicotine patches?—

—Yes, he did. That doesn't mean he did it quick enough; and that doesn't mean he wasn't annoying.—

—Um... y'still have some blood there.— Seb said, pointing to his face.

Jim picked up the handkerchief once again and wiped at his face where Sebastian had pointed. —Have I got it?—

Sebastian chuckled softly, putting the gun away and stepping closer, taking the handkerchief. He reached to gently clean his face for him.

—Thank you.— JIm smirked slightly.

Seb nodded. —Y'ave to learn to be more tolerant don't ya think?— He handed back the handkerchief. —Or you'll die of a heart attack.— He chuckled softly.

—I have no tolerance for stupidity.— James took the handkerchief and began to fold it up again. —Fortunately, I have no problem with killing almost anyone who bothers me. Otherwise I might have to agree with you there.—

—I hope y'don't shoot me fer somethin' as stupid as tha' because then it'll be _your_ loss.— Sebastian said, quite confident.

—I'll be slightly more lenient with you. You're much more valuable than someone like him.— Jim gestured to the door, as if pointing to the dead man outside.

Seb then grabbed the patches and opened the box. —Can't believe m'about to put these on fer ya.—

—Oh, come on, they're more concentrated than cigarettes. You'll love them.—

Sebastian frowned slightly. —Tha' doesn't make me feel any better y'know?— He said, taking one and rolling his sleeve up, placing it on his lower arm.

—My job isn't to make you feel better.— The consulting criminal pointed out as his eyes flickered down to stare at Sebastian's arm, admiring his physique for a few long seconds as the other man stuck the nicotine patch to his skin.

Sebastian rolled down his sleeve. —If this shit starts feelin' weird then I'd rather go back to using drugs.— He said in an unhappy tone, huffing and placing the rifle back over his shoulder.

—It's just nicotine, it's not like I'm giving you some crazy drug patch.— Jim crossed his arms and shook his head.

—Now, I better go before I get this sudden need to punch someone and since I am with ya.— Seb made a gesture with his fist toward him.

—Alright. Remember there's a car waiting. Don't mess it up.— The consulting criminal reminded him.

Seb walked to the door and turned to him. —Y'are gonna _love_ it.— He said before walking out with a wide smile on his face. Jim smirked at those words and watched him; humming to himself excitedly as he took a seat at his desk once again.


	6. Cigarette Issues

**Cigarette Issues**

Sebastian walked past the dead man lying on the floor in the entry room, raising an eyebrow at him and simply ignoring him; walking to the car waiting for him and getting in with a small smile on his face.

The driver looked back at Sebastian when he got in, raising an eyebrow at him. —Ready, sir? — He asked.

Sebastian looked at him and nodded. —Ready—. He then looked over at the house. —by the way mate... Wha' happens with y'know… The bodies—. Seb asked calmly. —I mean there's one right outside the kitchen—.

The driver turned back to face the windshield, beginning to drive, taking Sebastian out of the long driveway and onto the street, heading toward the inner city. —Mr. Moriarty has a clean-up team for any bodies around the house—. He replied casually.

Seb raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly. —Seems like he has everythin' under control—. He said more to himself than for the driver, looking out the window and waiting.

The driver merely nodded in response, and then remained in silence the rest of the short car ride, pulling over to the side of the road once they had reached the correct group of buildings. —I'll be here when you're finished or if you need to move locations—.

The sniper nodded slowly and looked around for a moment before he got out of the car, carrying the bag with the rifle over his shoulder; spotting the victim's house and smiling. Staring at the house discreetly for a moment before walking to the building across from the house.

The driver shut off the car and watched Sebastian go, sending Jim a text about what was happening. The Irishman was watching the cameras that he had set up in the victim's home, smirking as his eyes follow the target walking around his flat.

Sebastian managed to get on the roof across the house, taking out the rifle and putting it together rather quickly before he was soon pointing towards the target's location, analysing his shooting range and looking for the right spot to shoot, which he located pretty quickly. _An opened window_. He thought and smiled, waiting patiently to spot his victim, knowing sooner or later he would eventually pass by the window.

James waited and watched the cameras anxiously, focusing mainly on the room where one of the windows was left open. He saw the man walking into the room, it apparently being his office, and the target began to wander around it, soon enough crossing paths with the window.

The sniper smiled and placed his finger softly over the trigger, following the target around but then he stopped and his smile faded as he watched the target closely, what the target was doing next had the sniper a bit paralysed. The man stopped close to the window and took out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one up. This made Seb frown deeply and watch him smoke with almost fascinated eyes as his craving for one seemed to be his main thought instead of killing him at the moment. The grip on the rifle tightened and he waited for long seconds. The target took a long drag and kept pacing the office calmly, even getting closer to the window to blow the smoke out, which by that time the sniper was no longer on the rooftop.

The consulting criminal's brow furrowed as he saw the target approach the window and not getting a bullet through his skull. He texted the driver to see what was going on, just to make sure that Sebastian was in position.

It didn't take long for Seb to show up at the car once again, handing the bag with the rifle in it, at the driver through the window. —Hold this fer a second yeh? —. Seb said without waiting for the man to even say something. The driver took the bag from Sebastian, keeping it within arm's reach just in case though. Sebastian started looking around and walking into the pathway between the target's house and the house next door. Walking calmly and without being noticed to the back of the house.

The driver then texted Jim to inform him about what just happened, and James relaxed, watching the target as he continued to smoke.

Sebastian stood outside by the back door, using a classic technique with a simple tool like a paperclip he had in one of his pockets, to pick pock the door, walking in silently and without anyone noticing. As soon as he was inside he withdrew the handgun hiding in his clothes and walked through to the kitchen's doorway. Knowing the target was home alone and yet being cautious on every single corner, on every single step he took. His footsteps were so silent that there was no sound at all inside the house; his movements were fast and almost elegant as he moved from room to room, following the scent of the cigarette smoke. Soon he was standing outside the room where the target was, listening to the wood cracking gently for the man's constant pacing, he was even able to listen to his breathing as he took a drag and blew out the cigarette smoke. Seb smiled and was about to walk in and shoot him but instead he walked away to the room next to the office, this time making sure his footsteps were hearable, alarming the target who looked up and his heart stopped for a moment, looking towards the door and taking a few steps closer to it before leaving the cigarette on a nearby ashtray.

James zoomed out his camera view to accommodate the rest of the rooms. A smirk curled his lips when he saw Sebastian, wondering what he was doing instead of simply killing the man like he could have. He watched as the target peered around the corner of the room, looking out for whoever made that sound.

Sebastian at that point was no longer where the sound came from but in another spot, watching the target, smiling a bit before hiding again, moving and letting his footsteps echo in the place once again, making the man turn quickly.

—Who's there!? —. The target asked quickly, sounding a bit scared. Sebastian smiled and moved again with quick and stealthy movements. This made the man even more nervous and rushed back into his office to get his gun from one of the drawers with shaky hands. Sebastian was like a wild animal, playing with his prey before eating it; the smile on his face showed just how much he was enjoying this. He kept playing some more hide and seek to the point of almost making the target panic. Sebastian then took a deep breath and followed the target around who was still trying to find Sebastian, who was now getting closer and closer from behind.

The consulting criminal was meanwhile watching this game with curious eyes. The smile on Sebastian's face was a huge suggestion that he loved playing with his target, and Jim found that to be a very good thing. Watching through the cameras, intrigued.

Sebastian then in a quick and yet silent movement walked over to the target from behind as he was standing in the hallway, almost making him piss himself when he felt the sniper's handgun pressed to the back of his head, an almost evil smile grew on the sniper's face. —Jim Moriarty sends his love—. The target's face turned pale in a second and was about to scream when Seb pulled the trigger, making the man fall dead on the floor with a loud thud. The sniper got his gun closer and blew on the barrel. James smirked when the job was done, watching the sniper closely, waiting for the sniper to head out of there and get back in the car though that wasn't Seb's plan.

—Well tha' was easy—. Seb smiled and put his gun away before he walked over to the desk. —Now where are they? —. He said looking around. —OH! —. Seb said with a wide smile and walked to his prize, very carefully taking the pack of cigarettes and the lighter, taking one out and lighting it, taking a long drag and blowing out the smoke happily. —Ugh! Finally! —. Seb said and looked over at the dead man in the hallway right outside the office. —you had good taste mate—. James stared at the screen, he scowled and watched the sniper smoke, texting his men to be ready when the hitman got back home

Sebastian took his time to enjoy his smoke, leaving the pack and lighter exactly where they were before walking out, leaving no clues behind. Heading to the car and throwing the cigarette butt in a nearby trash can. Walking to the car and getting in with a pleased smile.

The driver looked back at Sebastian. —Shall I keep your gun until we get back? —. He asked, able to tell by Sebastian's body language that the job had been done.

Seb looked at him and nodded. —Yeh, I didn't need it so I guess I'll jus' put it back in its place when we get back home—.

The driver nodded, starting the car and heading back off toward the house. —Good kill? —. The driver asked.

—Very good kill—. Seb said as he looked out the window. —To be honest, it was way more fun than wha' I expected—. He admitted with a smirk over his lips.

—That's very good to hear—. The driver smiled at him through the rear view mirror, falling silent for the rest of the drive. Seb sighed in content, now getting pretty hungry yet still feeling very glad the job was done and he got his cigarette.

The drive was calmed and silent, and they head up the driveway to the house with no problems. When they arrived, though, Jim was standing at the doorstep, his arms behind his back, looking upset. There were several men positioned throughout the yard and the driveway, one holding a towel, and another holding a hose, and it became rather clear what they were for.

Sebastian saw Jim and smiled, getting out if the car with a wide smile that faded almost immediately when he saw the others and took him a few seconds to realize what was going on, frowning deeply and closing the car door a bit harder than needed. —oh c'mon man! —. Seb groaned and looked at Jim. —How the fuck did ya know?! —. Seb then turned to the driver. —It was you didn't ya? —. Seb asked with a big frown on his face.

—It wasn't the driver, Sebastian—. James said calmly, the calmness in his voice almost frightening considering how angry he definitely was. —I see everything. Don't think you can slip something like that past me. I would have found out by the stench on you anyway—. The criminal beckoned to the man directly right of him. —You can give him your clothes—.

Sebastian shook his head in disbelief. —The man was a chimney! The whole house smelled like cigarettes! I would have smelt anyways! —. Seb said trying to save himself the embarrassment of this ridiculous punishment.

—Yes, but you chose to intensify it by smoking yourself. You had the chance to shoot him before you had to go inside. You chose not to. Whether that was for the cigarettes or not, I don't know, but it doesn't matter—. Jim replied simply, shaking his head at him. —There's no point in arguing with me, Sebastian—.

Sebastian looked at him with disbelief. —So... My kill doesn't matter now... Thanks to yer goddamn cigarette issue! —. He said firmly and frowned even more.

—Oh, no, the kill was amazing. Thank you for that. Very nice to watch; but that doesn't mean that due punishment won't be provided… You knew better—. Jim lifted an eyebrow at the hitman.

—Watch?! —. Seb asked but then he realized now that Jim had probably cameras all over the place and that was how he knew about the cigarettes.

—Yes, watch—. The consulting criminal confirmed, the slightest smirk tugging at one corner of his lips. The sniper then looked at the rest of the men standing ready with the towel, the hose and ready to take his clothes, then his eyes were back to the Irishman. —Can't I jus' have a damn shower? —.

—No, you cannot just take a shower. I told you the conditions of you smoking, and you settled for nicotine patches for that reason. Now, I'd suggest taking your clothes off before I have to permit some of my men to force you out of them—.

Sebastian stared at him for long seconds and shook his head in disbelief. — Fine. Have it yer way then! —. He almost growled and started taking off his jacket, tossing it harshly at the man Jim pointed at before. Then took off his shirt and threw it to the guard. James didn't remove his eyes from Sebastian the entire time he was undressing, looking him over slowly. Everyone now able to see the sniper's chest and bare back, they were completely covered with scars. The biggest ones were across and down his chest, they were thick and big, seemed like a wild animal had marked him with its claws. Jim examined the scars, wondering what could have caused them, and then speaking.

—Are those why you don't like being called _Tiger_? —. The criminal questioned, admiring the scars for another moment. Sebastian glared at him and looked down, ignoring his question. James groaned at his lack of an answer. —Boring—.

Seb then undid his jeans and pulled them down, he wasn't wearing any underwear though quickly covering his nakedness with his hand before he tossed the jeans as well, kicking the shoes off and glaring at Jim. Seb hated being so exposed especially when he had scars all over his body.

He didn't look as pumped as he used to look on his glory days but he still looked fit and muscular. Even if Sebastian wasn't as muscular as he used to be, Jim was quite appreciative of his figure, and he loved the scars on the hitman's body.

—Happy? —. Seb asked coldly.

—Very—. He said in response.

Sebastian then rolled his eyes and looked up at the rest of the men. —come on! I don't have all day! —. Seb snaps angrily at the man with the hose. Jim sighed and headed back inside the building, where he waited for Sebastian in the entry room. The man holding Sebastian's clothes began walking to the back of the house, and the guard with the hose began to hose Sebastian down, thankfully the stream of water not being as harsh as it could be.

Seb groaned and shook the water off. —Enough! That's enough! —. Seb said, shaking slightly as he started feeling cold air hitting his body. Jim's men watching and when they were done Seb walked over to one of them and practically snapped the towel from him and wrapped it around himself. —Fuckers—. He muttered as he dried himself quickly, shaking slightly.

—The Boss is waiting inside. He'll show you where the guest bathroom is—. The man that handed the towel said, not a single one of them showing any sympathy for Sebastian as he dried himself off, but it was clear by a few of their expressions that some of them have gone through this before.

Sebastian frowned deeply and walked into the house with the towel wrapped around his waist. James raised an eyebrow at him. —You look cold—. Jim commented, before gesturing for Sebastian to follow him. The sniper frowned deeply and shook his head in disbelief, not believing this man.

James led him down a hallway separate from the others, opening a door halfway down the hall. —remember two hours—.

Seb walked past him without even looking at the Irishman and into the bathroom, almost slamming the door behind him. —Asshole—. He muttered.

—Make that three—. Jim called after him, leaning back against the wall across the hallway. —And you better be in the shower the entire time—. He said through the bathroom door, planning on staying there in case Sebastian tried to cheat his way out of it.

Sebastian glared at the door and frowned sadly. Throwing the towel away and getting into the shower, turning the hot water and stepping in, standing there under the water flow, frowning deeply as he let his anger boil deep inside him.

Jim took out his phone, crossing his legs as he began to reply to his emails, paying careful attention to the sound of the shower though in order to ensure that Sebastian remained in it.

Sebastian knew very damn well he was right outside and frowned deeply, shaking his head. Eventually, he sat down on the shower floor after a while. He would make Jim pay for this, one way or another, sooner or later but meanwhile he stayed in there. Slowly his anger faded but he couldn't help but feel extremely sad out of the blue.

Unmoving, James texted the chefs and told them to postpone the next meal for a few hours. If he was going to make Sebastian shower for this long, he'd at least have a meal prepared for him. He continued to respond to emails, texts, and business calls until Sebastian was finished. Eventually, the consulting criminal took a seat on the floor, his legs getting a bit tired from standing for so long. After those three hours, Sebastian started to get extremely bored and the water was no longer hot but very cold, though Seb didn't seem to feel it anymore. His skin all wrinkled for the exposure to the water for hours. Jim waited patiently and calmly until the three-hour mark hit, and only then he stood up again, knocking on the door a couple of times.

Sebastian was with his legs crossed and facing the wall though when he heard the knock he looked back at the door and rolled his eyes, not sure what to answer or if he should answer at all. —What! —. Seb yelled.

—It's been three hours. There are a fresh towel and clothes waiting out here for you—. James called through the door, having had his men bring the items for Sebastian around an hour earlier.

Sebastian groaned slightly, growing slightly anxious and drumming his fingers as he was craving another cigarette, even after this punishment which he hated. It took Seb a few moments before he stood up and turned off the shower.

—And dinner is ready—. The criminal said, slightly quieter now that the shower had been turned off. He had picked up the clothes from the small table nearby used mostly for decor and held them as he waited for Sebastian to open the door.

Sebastian grabbed towels and dried himself before he wrapped one around his waist and opened the door, looking at Jim and then at the clothes, taking them. —Thanks—. He said without really meaning it and then closed the door again. Not going to let Jim keep see him half naked, he didn't need more humiliation.

—You know it's not my fault that you had to do this—. Jim said after Sebastian had shut the door, rolling his eyes at the man's attitude and moving to lean back against the wall once again.

Seb got dressed and frowned deeply at his words, taking his time and then walking out. —This is stupid... The stupidest thing ever—. He said coldly, rubbing his hair to shake the water off.

—I told you the consequences of smoking. I suppose that'll teach you not to try and get away with things—. Jim said as he watched him. —Also, you never answered my question about the tiger—. He began leading him back down the hall, toward the entry room.

Seb started following him though when Jim mentioned the tiger again he stopped abruptly and sighed deeply, almost angrily. —Look... I get it, you hate smokin' bu' at this point I think I rather leave sex out... Or even better leave everythin' out! Everythin' was goin' so damn well today but _NO_ yer fuckin' overreaction with the cigarettes had to ruin everythin'! —Seb groaned and then bit his lower lip hard, forcing himself to stop talking, shaking his head.

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, James stopped next to him. —You know, irritability is a sign of nicotine withdrawal—. He pointed out, clearly not at all bothered by how upset Sebastian seemed. —Once again, I told you the consequences, you did it anyway. You were informed about the punishment, and you received that punishment for your irresponsible actions—.

Seb looked at him and frowned deeply. —I feel like yer fuckin' dog already an' y'are like trainin' me or somethin'... I hate it and now m'not sure I want this shit fer me—.

—This is one thing that I'm strict on. I'll be more lenient with all your stupid sex if you put up with the cigarette rule—. Jim sighed and leaned his head back. —You could have decided that before you just went through all the consequences for nothing—.

Seb shook his head and frowned sadly. —I wanna go to my room—.

Jim shrugged. —Do you want dinner at all? —.

Sebastian started fiddling with his fingers anxiously and groaned slightly. —M'not hungry—. He said before walking away heading to his room, not wanting to keep talking with Jim.

—I doubt that—. The criminal watched him walk away, deciding against bothering him after that. He texted the chefs to put all the food away but to prepare a plate for Sebastian and have it brought up to him just in case.

Sebastian locked himself in his room and started pacing around, trying so hard not to explode but his anxiety wasn't helping, also the nicotine withdrawal and pretty much the alcohol and drug withdrawal as well. His suicidal tendencies and depression, all of it simply kicking in. He sat down on the edge of the bed and frowned sadly, wondering if he wanted to keep doing this, not feeling like he wanted it anymore or if he could handle it.

James headed off to his office to bury himself in his work as per usual. He didn't feel guilty per say, but he wasn't going to be happy about losing Sebastian to something as stupid as cigarettes. Around fifteen minutes pass before there was a knock on Sebastian's door.

At this point, Sebastian's leg couldn't stop shaking and he looked up, taking a deep breath. —Who is it? —.

—The chef. I was instructed to bring you a plate of food—. The voice that came through the door was timid and mildly confused. The chef had thought that Sebastian requested the meal.

Sebastian frowned deeply and shook his head. —M'not hungry—. He said and flopped down on the bed.

The chef frowned, not understanding the situation. —Oh... Okay. Well, it will be ready for you downstairs whenever you want it, we'll heat it up whenever you like—. He said, before turning to leave.

Seb frowned sadly at that and a few tears fell from his eyes, he quickly sucked it up and wiped his tears away. The sniper started to over think everything for a long while, not sure he wanted to be there anymore, no matter how attractive the offer seemed, at this point, he didn't want any of this. He laid down and kept wondering what to do before falling asleep.

Jim made sure to post a few guards outside Sebastian's door so that they could report back to him if they hear anything or if Sebastian tried to leave. He worked late into the night, before heading to his bedroom to go to sleep.

Everything was silent and calmed for a while, though Sebastian jumped awake with a scream at almost three am; apparently, his night terrors were back that night. He was breathing heavily and looked around, frowning deeply and rubbing his face as he tried to calm down. Getting out of bed when he felt less exalted and walked to the window, looking out and standing there for what seemed to be long moments.

Since Jim wasn't too far down the hall from Sebastian, he was jolted awake at the sound of him waking up. Immediately, he heard his phone buzzing with texts from the men posted outside Sebastian's door, and he groaned in annoyance, but got up anyway, figuring he should check on Sebastian. James exited his room, quietly shooing away the two men posted at Sebastian's door before knocking his knuckles against the wood, holding a gun in one hand as a precaution.

Sebastian looked back at the door and bit his lower lip, waiting a few seconds before he walked to it and opened it slightly, his face showing how tired he was due to the bad night he was having but still his face seemed calm, almost emotionless. Blinking surprised to see Jim standing there. —Um... Hey—. Seb said softly.

Jim seemed much less professional standing there as he was, dressed in pyjama pants and a white t-shirt, his hair ruffled slightly from sleep. The only thing that made him seem like the same person he was the day before, was the pistol held tightly in his left hand. His brow furrowed in confusion when Sebastian opened the door, especially when he saw how tired he appeared to be, and he looked up at him. —Hi. Why the fuck are you shouting at three in the morning? —.

Seb gulped slightly. —Sorry... Didn't mean to wake ya... I was um... I had a bad dream—. He simply said not wanting to sound childish or weak, biting his lower lip. —Won't happen again—. He said, taking in how the Irishman looked. Unlike Seb who was still wearing the same clothes from before as he fell asleep without taking them off.

Some of the confusion faded from Jim's face, but he didn't move from where he was standing. —Sounds like a pretty intense bad dream... It's not like you can control it—. There was the slightest sliver of sympathy in his voice, virtually undetectable, but it was there. He then noticed the other man's clothes. —Why are you still wearing that? —.

He looked down at himself and then at him, not sure how to explain himself so he simply shrugged. —Sorry... I know they can get pretty spoiled if ya sleep with them on, I wouldn't like tha' to happen to these, they are pretty... I'll take 'em off before goin' back to bed—. Seb simply said, his voice sounded almost emotionless. —You um... y'should go back to bed too… I bet y'ave many things to do tomorrow—.

The consulting criminal stood there for a long moment, looked him over once, nodded, and then sighed. —I'd advise changing before going back to bed, yes... You'd be correct about that. But I'm not leaving just yet. Why are you so...? I don't know. What's wrong? —. He asked, unable to listen to Sebastian's nearly emotionless tone without wondering.

Seb narrowed his eyes slightly and analysed his question. It was almost as if Seb didn't realize he was having some sort of breakdown and it was only when Jim asked what was wrong, that he realized he was not acting normal. Which surprised him; in the past, Seb didn't notice it before because nobody was there to point it out and if someone did point it out they wouldn't really care enough to talk about it. Seb looked down and actually thought about it. —I... Don't know—. He looked at Jim. —I guess... I feel weird... Like... somethin' is off... Like... emptiness—. He explained calmly, trying to put into words how he felt. —People usually... feel like these sometimes... don't they? —. He asked in an almost confused tone.

James observed him extremely carefully, taking in the aspects of Sebastian's appearance and how he responded. Clearly, he must not have meant to fall asleep, or if he did he was in such a state that he didn't care about the clothes he was wearing. Because of how tired he seemed and the fact that he woke Jim up by screaming just moments ago had the criminal slightly concerned about what was happening. —I wouldn't be the one to ask... But that doesn't sound like a typical feeling for most people, at least not a good one. Are you alright? —. He almost couldn't believe that he was showing any kind of caring at all towards Sebastian, and he leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed.

Seb bit his lower lip and watched him for a few seconds. —I guess then... M'not like most people—. He said with a small and sad smile before he reached to rub his forehead slightly, feeling a massive headache about to hit him. —I guess I'm a'right... If not then, I will be... I always am... I always manage to survive wha'ever happens to me—. He forced a small smile again.

Confusion lingered on Jim's face as he spoke. —Are you sure you're alright? Do you want to, I don't know, talk or something? You seem... Not okay—. He was not sure how else to put it, but his worry was growing with each word Sebastian spoke. There was clearly something a bit off, whether it had been triggered by Sebastian's nightmare or the withdrawal or the events of the day before.

Seb blinked a bit confused by this. He was never good at expressing himself or his feelings and talking about it was something he wasn't used to do, ever. Not because he didn't want to but because there was no one to talk to about it and even when he wanted to say yes to Jim and let him stay and talk, he shook his head. —Y'ave work tomorrow... I'll jus'... I probably jus' need a... Nicotine patch—. He said with a small frown. —Or... a drink... or... I don't know—. He frowned as he seemed to start babbling. —Forget it, m'tired, that's all—.

—I'm offering to talk to you about whatever the fuck this is—. Jim gestured up and down over Sebastian's body with the gun making Seb look down at himself and then back at Jim. —I don't have any early meetings tomorrow, and I definitely don't want you finding more alcohol or taking more nicotine in than you can handle. Do you want to talk, or not? Don't expect this offer again—. Jim said and Seb narrowed his eyes slightly, biting his inner cheek for a few seconds.

—The exact reason why y'won't be offerin' this again is the same reason why I must decline it—. Seb then seemed to hold back his posture and attitude. —Yer job is not to make me feel better, remember? —. He said before sighing deeply. —So... Y'can go back to bed, I won't wake ya up again—.

The criminal rolled his eyes. —Alright. I'll be in my room, then, if you change your mind or something. Just don't start doing drugs or getting alcohol or some shit. Go back to sleep. You're a mess—. He told him, taking a step back into the hallway. —Goodnight, Sebastian—.

Sebastian watched him go and bit his lower lip, closing the door behind him. Unfortunately, that was exactly what Seb needed, cigarettes, alcohol and drugs. Apparently, the sniper was suffering from PSTD without having a clue of it, which had been triggered because of the events of the day after. The withdrawals, the punishment and his night terrors. Feeling like he needed to get out of there.

Jim positioned two men at the door again, walking slowly back to his bedroom. He shut the door behind him, laying his gun in his bedside drawer where it belonged, and then got back into bed. Sebastian lingered in the back of his mind as he fell back asleep, and he couldn't help but wonder what was going on with him.

Sebastian heard the men's footsteps outside, pressing his ear against the door and frowning deeply as he could hear them outside his door. He then walked back to bed, pacing the room, sitting down again and biting his nails, scratching his head and drumming his fingers, all of this being a result of an anxiety attack. The only thing he could do now was to think about how much he wanted to get out of there. Though as good as he was and due to the military experience he had, it took him almost two hours to find the way to get out of there, almost as if he was running away from prison.

The sniper managed to open the window and jump down, landing on the grass in a not very gentle way but he didn't waste any time in stopping and complain about the pain in his legs because of the harsh fall. Quickly running over to the fence, passing the guards patrolling the house. Finally, he was out and running down the street as fast as he could, heading to a familiar place, a place where he could get a cheap and quick fix. It wasn't anywhere near the fancy streets he was staying at the moment, actually, there were quite far away if he was planning on running all the way there. Deep inside he knew it was wrong but at this point, his need was stronger than his will and his reason.

Jim slept without a problem, though he couldn't stop contemplating what was happening to Sebastian. He was still concerned about losing the man, even if he didn't want to give him cigarettes, but there seemed to be no other way to stop him from leaving.

As soon as Jim woke up, he could tell something was off. He exited his room and told the two men outside Sebastian's door to check inside the room. One of them nodded and moved to open the door, the room was a bit messy and empty, the window wide open. The guard frowned deeply and gulped slightly. —He's gone, Sir—.

At this, Jim began shouting at them. He had his men search the halls and outside, everywhere nearby to check for Sebastian and even began calling his men positioned around the city. Sending every single one of them to look out for the sniper and to not bother him until they had found him and brought him home.


End file.
